A Journey
by yetzer ha'ra
Summary: Summary: Ash’s daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she’s asleep with a pack, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu. T for now!
1. Intro: 3rd Person

A Journey

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: I apologize how intro-y it is, and the descriptions of stuff might not be the most scintillating reading, but it's better than some intro chapters where the characterization is literally just a list. Trust me, it gets better.

All in all, Ash Ketchum mused, his daughter was shaping up to be a disappointment. Twig was a beautiful girl, truth be told… He thought.

Since Ash can't exactly evaluate the looks of his own daughter, I guess I, the narrator, will. She has long legs like her mother, and unlike her late mother she's actually beginning to have what could eventually be sizeable breasts. She has unruly, mousy brown hair which feels a little like straw. She has light gray eyes which are her best feature. Her nose is rather large, unlike both her mother and Ash. That would make sense, however, because that Ash is not her birth father. (LONG story, one neither Ash nor Twig knows, so I hope you can keep a secret). Anyways, continuing with Ash.

Twig was a beautiful girl, truth be told, at 13 years old, but she showed a remarkably alarming disinterest in training. She didn't mind Pokemon, other than Pikachu, which to Ash's chagrin she hated, but she had no interest to wander the world and try to be the very best, like no one ever was. She'd gotten offers for Pokemon to train for a long time now. Brock had constantly offered one Pokemon of almost every litter which he bred. Twig finally took a Nidoran Female, Nara, from one of Brock's litters with Gary. However, she showed no interest in battling. She didn't even have the same bond with Nara as Ash had with Pikachu. Nara was more a pet than a friend, teammate, and equal to Twig.

Ash sighed. It was time for a bit of tough love, he thought to himself.

Twig stretched, only to find a canopy of trees hanging over her. She assumed she must still be dreaming. She looked down, only to find that instead of her silky nightgown, she was wearing a pair of the most comfortable jeans in physical existence. She could barely tell she was wearing them.

She looked at the tag, knowing that at least if she was dumped into a random forest dream, she'd come out of it knowing what purely heavenly jeans are like. The tag insignia was 4Trainers.

She stared similarly at her shirt, a cotton pink shirt which was both flattering and comfortable. It had a bit of a V-neck, showing a bit of cleavage. She looked at the tag coming off of the sleeve. The tag also 'said' 4Trainers.

She rummaged in her pockets of her new jeans, and found that they were rather deep and practical. She had a pocket within her right pocket for money, and she found in there a thousand dollars. She glared at the paltry sum. One thousand pokedollars wouldn't buy her a night's stay in even the sleaziest of hotels. In the pocket, folded in between two 100 dollar bills, she found a quick note. Her brow darkened in surprise and the birth throes of anger; she recognized the pharmacist scrawl only had by seizuring Pokemon holding pens in their mouths, and her father.

_Dear Twiggy,_

_I know that you don't want to train Pokemon, but I think that once you try it you'll thank me for this. You can get Nara once you can find your way home. If you don't want to train once you get home, then you don't have to. Enjoy yourself!_

_Love,_

_Dad_

_P.S.- Check your knapsack._

Twig snarled at the letter, and looked at a backpack lying on the ground next to her. It was camouflage blue, and looked rather sturdy, and, once again, comfortable.

Within it, she found two bras, each two sizes too small (oh, how her dad could not judge cup size), and two pairs of underwear. She found a bar rapped in cellophane. She assumed it looked like soap, though it resembled wax, and didn't smell much better. It was hard, and the size of a brick.

She found something the size of a PDA, something that she DID recognize. The slim Pokedex seemed to laugh at her, to summarize all of her troubles. She took a breath through gritted teeth.

Continuing, she saw a lighter, shaped like a Charizard. She clicked it, and a blue jet of flame came out of the Charizard's mouth. She grinned at that, a little bit. She continued to paw through, and found a curiously shiny metal pot. She found a Kantonian Army Knife, and pawed through all of its uses. She found one of those flashlights which when shook, gave off light, requiring no batteries. All of her stuff was incredibly lightweight.

She found a loud whistle shaped like an Exploud. She was almost beginning to be happy at having all this cool stuff, the least of which was a sleeping bag that had been compressed in a carrying bag approximately the size of a purse.

But, then, Twig saw a familiar red and white sphere. She felt a clench of fear, knowing that her precious, docile Nara wasn't the creature contained in that electromagnetic sphere. She breathed in and out, and pressed the button.


	2. Sinnoh: Lost

What emerged was my worst fear

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: It's first person from here on out.

…

What emerged was my worst fear. It was a foot tall, and it stood on two legs. It had a trademark yellow tail. It glared at me with black eyes.

"PIIIICHU!"

"Oh, REALLY?" I mimicked, to hide my fear.

The Pichu slapped its tail on the ground. "PIII!"

"An astonishing two syllable vocabulary," I taunted. "Your family must be so proud."

All of a sudden, I felt paralyzed, too paralyzed to even cry out in pain. The Pichu jolted me with more electricity.

"Stop!" I finally said, though my lips were on fire with pain, like the rest of me.

The Pichu eyed me coldly, and stopped… before letting in another blast into my system.

I stared around me. I was alone in the woods, and my only companion was my worst fear. I knew that there was only one thing a girl could do in this situation. I allowed tears to pour down my face.

The creature still showed no mercy. It glared at me icily.

"Look. Your father is Ash's Pikachu, right?"

The Pichu turned up its nose in refusal to answer.

"Your noble _father_," I spat, "was jealous of me when I was born, that I was apparently ruining his bond with Ash. He tried to shock me to death. He nearly succeeded. Bet you didn't know that, huh? And by law, Ash should have put Pikachu to death, but Ash personally, as Master, changed that law. He wouldn't kill the stinking _rat _who almost killed me! He still wears it on his bloody shoulder."

The Pichu snarled, and prepared to shock me again.

"Go ahead," I said bitterly, "be just like your father. Kill me just for being born."

I figured I had guilted it out of shocking me again, so I was unpleasantly surprised to find electricity coursing through my veins.

"So you kill me?" I asked through gritted teeth. "Then what? I don't think Ash would make an exception for _you_. How often did you see Ash? Or your father, even."

The Pichu growled, almost frothing in anger.

"I know that you're the one holding the cards," I said, "but I'm the one holding the Ball." I gestured to the Pokeball clutched in my hands.

"As soon as I catch a reasonably sane Pokemon that doesn't act like a rabid light switch, then I will release you. Go wherever the hell you want. I just need to get out of this forest." I glared at my one foot adversary, my tiny nemesis.

"Do you have a name?" I asked it.

"PICHU!"

"Pichu? I don't call myself 'Human', do I?"

"PII!" The Pichu prepared to shock me again, then thought better of it.

I sighed.

"This kind of sucks for me as well. I mean, no offense, I HATE training. And you clearly hate being trained. If it was up to me, I'd have no problem if you just ran off. And at least you have someone who speaks your language in this forest. I really cannot understand you at all." I began to adopt a convivial tone speaking to this thing I hated. Because I hated the little thing, I could be TOTALLY open with it, perversely.

"Piich."

"I mean, I do find it odd that with only two syllables you can speak a coherent language. No, don't shock me; there's no real point." I held up a hand in defense.

"Well, we should probably be trying to get to the city." I tossed the Pichu its Pokeball. "Hold on to this, will you?"

"Piich!" The Pichu glared at me.

"Hey, that sounds like peach. Is that your name?" Hoping to have a nod or an excited squeal, I was a bit annoyed to find myself shocked electrically once again, although marginally less painfully this time. By that, I mean that I had enough mobility to scream in pain.

"Hey, a trainer!" I heard a voice say. I whipped my head around, and at the top of the hill I had been walking past, I saw a boy run down. He looked to be around my age.

"Hey, wanna battle?" He asked excitedly. How _male,_ I thought, to be so happy about fighting with animals.

I stared at him and rolled my eyes.

He looked at me with similar contempt. "Is _that _your only Pokemon?"

"Yes, and," I said, feeling the Pichu's tail prod into me, "I'm not training it." I hastily added.

"And you don't even know his or her gender?" The boy said conceitedly.

"How, exactly, am I supposed to tell?" I snapped.

"Well, there are subtle differences," the boy said pretentiously.

"Well, what gender is it then?"

"There's no difference on a Pichu, I'd have to wait until it evolves. Anyways," the youth said, "I _would _battle you, but my Pokemon are _far _too strong against an infant Pokemon. Besides, you shouldn't even be letting it walk around on its own."

The Pichu, at this, made a warning noise in its throat.

"Why would I _carry _it around? It clearly can walk on its own."

"Baby Pokemon are _very _delicate," the boy said with an upturn to his nose.

"It doesn't _seem _delicate to me! It shocked the living shit out of me."

"_Really!"_ The boy said sarcastically. "Its Thundershock should be _rather_ undeveloped at this point. You must have a rather low pain tolerance."

At this, the Pichu finally let loose a shower of electricity in the boy's direction. At least he managed to remain dignified, though in pain.

"We might have a fairly even battle," he said, once he regained use of his lips. "Meet me at the Pokemon Center tomorrow." The boy began to stalk off.

As soon as he was out of sight, I realized that I should have asked him where exactly I was. I cursed inwardly at myself, and then turned to the Pichu.

"Thanks for giving that idiotic boy what he deserved. I'm glad to know that you don't just shock me…" I was almost expecting the shock that came.

"Oh dear…" I said. "Well, is there anything here that you can eat? Berries or something?" The Pichu didn't deign to answer, but merely pointed up to a tree.

"Oh, you can't climb?" I asked. Despite the lack of feeling in my legs, I pulled down an apple from a tree, only having to jump a bit. "Well, unlike what Pokedork said, you can walk." I laughed a bit at my new name for him. I didn't even know his real one.

"Come on," I said, "we have some distance to cover. Also, if you want to battle, I'd appreciate the opportunity to kick his ass." Pichu merely grunted in reply.

Eventually, after a day of walking, a VERY boring one only made interesting by the occasional sightings of wild Pokemon I didn't recognize, I set up camp for the night.

"Umm," I awkwardly asked the Pichu, "do you need something to sleep in?" The Pichu squeaked, and disappeared within my sleeping bag.

"Hey, that's not funny!" I said. The Pichu merely said in a manner that sounded entirely too taunting, "Piiii!" I tried to put my hand in there and get it out, but got shocked. I was getting used to it; they were hurting marginally less and less every time. My dad said that would happen, when I had asked why he wasn't dead from the way Pikachu woke Ash up every morning. By now, (he had gone through testing), just from the amount of exposure, he was IMMUNE to electricity. Fire as well, for short periods of time, because of his experience with Charizard.

So, I was forced to sleep, in these same clothes, without any protection. Meanwhile, enjoying what I assumed was my luxuriously comfortable sleeping bag, was a tiny yellow lump. The injustice made me want to bare my teeth and snarl, but unlike my recalcitrant electric "friend", I had self control.

I hate to gloss over these early days so quickly, but none of them differed spectacularly from the first. There was shocking, lots of it in fact. There was a general sense of being completely lost, which we were. There was a lot of apples, thankfully, or else I would not have survived.

Well, until I met Claudia.

I spied her through the dappled sunlight, seeing an extra shadow. I ran over, this time, to say hello nervously. She was a lot older than me, try twenty three or so. She had this beautiful long strawberry blonde hair, and a tan that gleamed. Her eyes were blocked by black sunglasses with the insignia of a red 'R' emblazoned on them.

"Oh, are you lost?" She asked, before I could even say hello. I nodded silently. "Well, that can be fixed. I'm Claudia Pense. How long have you been training for?"

"Well, not very long; less than a week, in fact." I left out the fact that I didn't want to, that I had just woken up here with only a note and some stuff.

"Where are you from?"

"Pallet Town," I said.

"My goodness! What are you doing all the way in Sinnoh?"

My eyes widened. _I'm in SINNOH_? "Umm, it's a long story."

"Honey," she said, "I have all the time in the world."

"Well, my father _really _wanted me to train, right? So he dropped me in the woods, I don't know where, and I don't have a map, and my only Pokemon is a Pichu."

"Wow, tough luck. Who's your father, Lance?" She laughed a bit.

"We're from Hoenn, we went on a Pokemon-training honeymoon in Sinnoh. We'll be going back to Hoenn soon, you can come back with us."

"Can you afford it?" I asked guardedly. "I mean, I would love to. My dad said that if I found my way home, he'd allow me to stop training."

"Yeah, then you'll NEED it. Sinnoh is an island continent, which doesn't connect up to Hoenn, which doesn't connect up to Johto, which DOES connect up to Kanto."

"Oh." I said.

"Yeah. I can afford it, really. Linus, my husband, has recently come into some money."

"And you must have come into some Pokemon, too!" I joked, staring at her Pokeballs.

"Yes, that too. Would you like to see?"

"Sure!" I said happily.

"Go, Castform!" The weather Pokemon, just a purple blob, emerged. The day's weather was so unremarkable that it was just in its normal form, not its weather specific ones.

"Go, Creeper!" An Ariados, a spider Pokemon native to Johto, emerged. I was surprised that such out-of-region Pokemon were to be found in the far-off land of Sinnoh.

"Go, Vespiquen!" Finally, a Pokemon from Sinnoh- one I had never seen before, actually. It looked like a bee wearing a dress, and it was bigger than a Beedrill.

"And, here's the one I'm proudest of," she confided. "Go, Stamp!" What emerged was a Lairon, a Rock/Steel combo. It stared at me and stamped its foot on the ground.

"How did you and Linus have enough time to get such good Pokemon?"

"Well, Linus has inherited some money, and the company where he worked was so kind as to give him a year off."

"That's neat."

"Hmm, actually, I have an idea. We could wait a week for the next boat, and you can take our tickets!"

"Umm, thanks, are you sure?"

"Positive!" Claudia beamed happily. "And when you come to two redwood tree stumps about as tall as you, follow an imaginary path right between them straight for three miles. Then, turn to the left and walk until you reach the signs. That should bring you to the Pokemon Center. The harbor is right near it!"

"Thanks!" I paused, and, without a second thought, gave Claudia a hug.

She hugged me back, and grinned. I was no longer lost, at least. Now I just had to get home and control the Pichu.


	3. Sinnoh: Departing

A Journey

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: This is the third chapter of a very long story, so the pacing is slow. I've worked extremely hard on this story, so any and all comments are greatly appreciated, especially ones with constructive criticism.

…

So, I hate to make a long story short, but our walk back WAS rather boring. I mean, not much happened, except, oh be still my heart, I saw ONE wild bird Pokemon that I think was called Starry or something.

We arrived at the Pokemon Center later. Pichu was still walking near me. People were always enamored with its cuteness, which I found sickening.

In particular, this one contest girl kept on trying to buy him from me.

Everything about her was lavender colored, including her hair. She wore this lavender beret at a jaunty angle. She probably thought it was cute.

She stared at me, then popped a hip so it stuck up. She turned around and bent over to scratch Pichu's chin, revealing her perfect, adorable candy-wrapper ass to me. If I were a guy looking at that perfection, all of my blood would have drained into my lap, if you know what I mean.

"It's so _cute_!" She said the word cute with this hideous little upturn which guys probably found adorable. On the whole, guys probably found her adorable, despite her almost entire flatness in the chest. She had a pleasant, heart-shaped face, an adorable freckled nose, and her long, flowy lavender hair on either side. Once again, that ass of hers didn't hurt, nor did being very skinny and having flawless legs. I felt pangs of jealousy at those girls who were perfect.

"Is it for sale?" The girl squeaked out, clasping her hands together cutely in front of her lack of chest.

I stared at Pichu, and quirked an eyebrow. Pichu squeaked harshly.

"Aww, I think it wants to!" The girl said. I waited for the Pichu to release it's stereotypical storm of a Thundershock, but it didn't; it just stared at me.

"Nah, no thanks," I said, trying not to sound like I actually wanted nothing more than to dump her with the shocking menace, but my conscience restrained me.

"Alright then," Lavender, as I called her internally because of her coloration, said sadly. "If you ever change your mind, let me know!"

"Ok," I said, doubting I would ever do such a thing.

"What's your name?" The girl asked shyly, playing with her fingers.

"Twig Ketchum."

"Oh, you're the Master's daughter!" Lavender squealed. I wanted to wince.

"My name's Lavender!" True to her color scheme, and my internal name for her, I laughed. "Could I have your autograph?" I rolled my eyes, and signed the paper she handed to me.

All of a sudden, a familiar voice regaled me; right after Lavender was done and had skipped off. "It's you again!" The boy trainer said, running up to me.

"Just for further reference, what's your name?" I asked the boy, so I no longer had to call him "the boy," or Pokedork, although I figured that I would probably still call him that anyways (hehe).

"Oh? Yeah. My name's Peter. Peter Winscott. What's yours?"

"An insignificant detail," I joked. After I told Lavender, it quickly occurred to me that I shouldn't tell everyone that Ash Ketchum was my father. "Can I see your Pokemon?"

"Not right now, I got a boat to catch." He said quickly, with a cocky jut to his shoulders.

"To Hoenn, by any chance?" I asked with a sinking feeling in my stomach, half at the fact that he'd be coming along, and half at the fact that knowing he'd be coming along somehow made me happy.

"Yup."

"I have tickets there too."

"Neat!" The boy said. "So, I _guess _you can see my Pokemon."

"Hey!" Lavender butted in, having skipped back. "Do you by any chance happen to have an extra ticket?"

I looked, and saw that indeed Claudia had given me both her and her husband's tickets.

"Yeah."

"Great! I'd love to go too!" She said, staring deeply into my eyes. By the fact that she wasn't looking at Peter, the Pokedork, I could tell that she had a major crush on him.

"Yeah!" I said glibly, "but you'd have to pay me back." I realized that this was a good time to make some money.

"How much did _your _ticket cost?" Lavender said, batting her eyelashes, now looking shyly at Peter.

"30,000 dollars," Peter said. "Of course, I got first class for me and my Pokemon. I don't know what tickets _you _have." Peter turned up his nose, and I heard Pichu growl a bit at Peter's conceit.

I looked at the ticket. "It's first class as well."

"Alright, then! Thank you." She smiled, and easily forked over that much cash.

"So!" She said brightly. "PETER," she said with emphasis, "show me _your_ Pokemon!"

"Gladly!" Peter sniffed.

"Go, Infernape!" He released a fully evolved Sinnoh starter. The proud flaming fire/fighting monkey trailed a stream of flame behind him. He snarled rather showily, and growled out his name in a series of guttural growls. Infernape was exactly four feet tall, and according to Peter, weighed a hundred twenty pounds.

"Go, Shinx!" He called. A diminutive electric Pokemon that looked like a cross between a dog and a cat emerged. It was about a foot and a half tall, with a four-pointed star on its tail.

"Go Starly!" A small Normal/Flying starling Pokemon emerged. So _that's _what that Sinnoh wild bird Pokemon was called!

"Go, Bidoof!" A small Normal type Beaver Pokemon emerged.

"Go, Shellos," a blue sea slug Pokemon came out as well. If it had been from West Sinnoh, it would have been pink.

"Go, Kricketune!" Peter said finally. A red cricket Pokemon with a mustache emerged.

"Wow," Lavender said, putting her slim hands on her slim waist. "That's really cool! You must be really strong!" She said flirtatiously.

All things said, I wanted to _vomit_. "So, Lavender, can we see _your_ Pokemon?"

"Oh," she said softly, in a somewhat beautiful, ethereal voice, "you wouldn't want to see them, they're nothing special!"

Peter, oblivious, said, "Well, you just want to train them like I trained mine!" He grinned cheerfully.

Peter was an enigma, I couldn't help but muse. He had this dark coffee brown hair which stuck up, and the faintest wisp of hair on his upper lip. He had proud, haughty, ice blue eyes, which stood out very strikingly from his face. But would made him stand out the most was his bearing, one of easy conceit.

I could instantly identify his greatest flaw; he obviously worked so hard on getting Infernape to his final evolution that he had barely trained his other Pokemon; all but the Kricketune were at their hilariously small base forms.

Of course, I couldn't say anything to him about it. The one Pokemon I had with me hated my guts, and shocked them just as often. That would be hypocritical.

"Hey Peter, how long is the boat ride?"

"Three weeks!" He said excitedly. "If any water Pokemon trail the boat, I get to catch them!"

Add cocky attitude to his list of flaws, in case you didn't already. As nice as he was in looks, which were very nice, I admitted to myself, it didn't quite make up for that inner conceit of his.

All he needed was to suffer defeat against an inferior opponent to shake him up. However, I knew, glancing down at Pichu, that that wouldn't work. Pichu couldn't win against that Infernape.

Lavender grinned at me. "So, do you do contests?"

"No!" I said. "I'm more the straight battle type." Of course, I had no idea, but Pichu didn't seem the type to battle in an artful manner.

"Oh!" She squealed, putting her hands together adorably, "but they're so _fun_!"

Could this Lavender character be physically any stupider? I thought. No, probably not.

Pichu poked me in the tail.

"We're boarding now!" Peter said. "C'mon Lavender, C'mon… I still don't know your name!"

I didn't want this conceited guy to know that I was Ash's daughter. "Call me… oops! We NEED to board!"

Indeed, the final boarding whistle pierced through everything.

"Come _on_!" Lavender said, using this excuse to grab Peter by the arm and run towards the boat.

I followed, knowing that I was just getting closer to home. I turned down, to look at Pichu, who was stubbornly running after me.

"Umm, am I supposed to carry you or anything?" The Pichu squeaked dangerously, and held its tail at the ready. I just continued running. I ran up the gangplank, and Pichu followed, a bit more slowly. I wanted to rush it, but I knew the consequences of that, but every step closer I got to the boat, the closer I was to home.


	4. Cruise: Beginning

A Journey

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: I apologize in advance; this chapter is quite long, but I didn't want to separate it and lose momentum. Suffer through it, and you'll have good experience for your senior year of high school.

…

We made it on, and looked at my ticket. 1-09a. The 1 clearly stood for first class, so I was on the top level, room 9a.

I quickly found my room, and noticed that it was next to Lavender's. My room didn't even have a bed, just an extremely small loveseat. We shared a luxurious bathroom, with a whirlpool bathtub big enough for three people at least.

Lavender crossed over, looking extremely awkward. "Who did you get these tickets from?"

"Some couple," I said idly.

"Maybe they ordered the Honeymoon suite, because that's what we got." At this, Lavender let out a girly giggle. "Come see!"

The giant bed in Lavender's room was strewn with flower petals. The fact that the bed was shaped like a giant heart didn't help. The comforters were a vivid red, with several heart shaped throw pillows on them. So _that _was why the bathtub was so big! I mused to myself. I stared at Lavender, and both of us burst into giggles.

"The bathtub is apparently a Jacuzzi." Lavender said, still giggling. "I'll take it at night. Just save some water for me!" She giggled again.

God, I thought to myself, what a MORONIC girl. Could she go four seconds without giggling, or would that endanger her health? I rolled my eyes, and gestured to Pichu to go back into my room.

"Pichu," I said to it. "We're going to need to have a talk." It folded its arms across its chest and squeaked.

Right at that moment though, a PA announcement echoed through the boat. "We are now having our Pokemon Raffle!"

"Oooh!" Lavender squealed. "I heard about this! All ticketholders are instantly entered into the raffle to get either Sinnoh or the Hoenn Pokemon! Cmon, Twig! Let's go!"

I grinned, and Pichu turned up its' nose, clearly deciding to stay in the room.

"Suit yourself!" I said to my stubborn Pokemon.

Lavender grinned, and we ran out of the room together, towards the Grand Ballroom, in which tables had been set out.

"Hellllllllllllllo! Welcome aboard the 4Trainer Hoenn Launch! To commemorate our 20th anniversary, our Pokemon Raffle is BIGGER THAN EVER! We are raffling off over 500 Pokemon from ALL FOUR REGIONS! That's right, you heard me, ladies and gentlemen, ALL FOUR REGIONS! We have rare Pokemon, too! So, here's how it works. We'll give you twenty tokens with your ticket number on it, and you can put them into different raffle bowls. For example, if you want to join the raffle for a Dratini," the announcer said, pointing at at a bowl with a Dratini drawn onto it, "just plop one of your tokens in it. You can put in as many tokens as you want. Anyways, now for our RAAAAAAAARE POKEMON!"

The announcer, at this, motioned for the lights to dim. After waiting impatiently for twenty seconds, they did.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooow, for our rare and UNUSUAL Pokemon!" I thought the guy seriously talked too looooooooooooooooong, but that was just me. That idiot Lavender looked enraptured, holding her hands with delight. God, what a ditz. Why couldn't I have shared a honeymoon suite with Peter? Wait, I thought, did I just think that? I turned beside me, only to find Peter there, clapping, but also looking annoyed at the annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnouncer. I shared a grin with him, and he shook his head, tossing his hair ever so slightly…

"Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirst off, we haaaaaaaaaave… SINNOHHHHHHHHHHH POKEMON!"

A map of Sinnoh flashed onto the stage. _Wow, they are _seriously _overdoing it!_

Meanwhile, Lavender said, "Isn't this _great_?" I wanted to smack her upside upside the head.

"We have the… Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinoh starters!" The announcer said. Three very, umm, _unique _looking Pokemon came out. The grass starter didn't look too weird. However, that might be because that my Dad had a Turtwig as well, so I was used to it. However, the Chimchar, the fire Pokemon, was essentially a monkey with a flame constantly spouting from its butt. The water starter, Piplup, was basically a giant blue head with almost no torso and just yellow feet.

Similarly, I tuned out the other Pokemon from all four regions, choosing to merely amuse myself by staring at the other trainers on the boat.

Most of them, like Lavender, had long, flowing, dyed hair in preposterously unnatural colors, such as a black so dark it seemed to suck the light up like a black hole. Shades of pink, violet, and an ostentatious blue also adorned many heads.

Not to say that this made them completely unattractive; many of the female trainers, despite their lurid shades of hair, were very pretty, such as Lavender was. Some of the guys, in a "I stink from walking around the countryside and not showering" sort of way, were even hot. Few of the girls were 'hot' though, persay. Most were just pretty or cute. The hot ones rarely went training, but chose to go into modeling, or something that wasn't as hard on them and their appearance.

There was one notable exception to this standard; one girl sat who, if I was male, would have caused my mouth to go dry with longing for hers.

She had dyed hair, of course, but it was a fluorescent shade of blonde, which, although dyed, was a human hair color, at least. Her eyes were a stormy, clouded gray, and accentuated by dark eye shadow.

One thing that she had that few girl trainers had was breasts, which practically spilled out of the low-cut white camisole she was wearing. Her small pink miniskirt revealed her shapely legs. Her only fault was a mole on the right corner of those puffed up lips. Urgh. More perfection, although her sort was of a different kind than Lavender's.

Most male trainers, the ones who had gone though puberty, which were near her, were staring down her shirt in appreciation of the bountiful goods it contained. Her tight camisole looked in danger of exploding into breasts, and the guys would stare at her until this happened, or so it seemed.

I decided that I would have to go talk to her later.

After what seemed to be about sixteen hours, that aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannouncer finished up his aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamazing spiel, and I was handed twenty circular tokens with my room number on them.

What seemed to be, and probably was, over five hundred bowls, with a card saying what Pokemon raffle they contained, and a photograph of the Pokemon, circled around the room.

Lavender, the intelligent little planner that she was, dropped all of her tokens in for what I assumed to be the rarest Pokemon they offered; a shiny Dratini, magenta and sparkling in the photograph.

I dropped six of my tokens in one for a Rattata with only two other tokens in it. I also added one token each for a Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle, wishing for the familiarity of the starting Pokemon in the far-off region that was my home.

I put two other of my tokens into an interesting looking Pokemon called Chatot that resembled a parrot. Just in case I got lucky, I put the other nine of my tokens into one of the most popular pots; for an Eevee. They actually had two, but the female Eevee was more popular, as she could have more Eevee, and that's what I put in for.

Peter did it in a much more efficient way; he found powerful but unpopular Pokemon, and assumed that he could trade for others. He put ten of his tokens in for a Stantler, a powerful but underappreciated Pokemon. The other ten went towards Mawile, a merciless Steel Pokemon shaped like a giant jaw. It wasn't the most child-friendly Pokemon, but it was very strong.

Finally, another man, thankfully not the announcer, brought in a cart full of Pokeballs in carefully labeled sections.

"Umm, err, I'm the umm captain of the boat." The man said quietly. "And I'm, err, not good with talking with crowds." The trainers, clearly not caring, just stared at him.

"Umm, I should probably start with the Pokemon in order of the National Dex. Umm, the person who gets Bulbasaur is umm, room 3-11." An excited little girl, age five, ran up there, snatched the Pokeball out of his hand, and instantly called it out. It licked her face with a tongue that left grass stains on across her cheek, and she looked delighted. Her parents looked decidedly less delighted.

Similar fanfare occurred for rooms 2-18 and 1-08, a close shave for the Squirtle. Eventually, though, they got to the normal Pokemon. Apparently Caterpie and Weedle weren't that uncommon, even in Sinnoh. However, both of those were rare compared to the Rattata, common in all the lands.

"And this is, umm, strange. Only, umm, one trainer put in for umm, Rattata. Umm, congratulations to 1-09a." I guessed that the other two tokens I saw in there were later taken out by the person who put them in.

I ran up with a grin on my face, and accepted a Pokeball with the cruise's insignia on it. I let it out, and the familiar rat Pokemon from my homeland emerged.

Well, this was it, I thought. This was the chance for me to make a favorable impression on a Pokemon.

"Hi, my name is Twig. I am _so happy _to meet you." And it was _true_. I held out my hand for it to sniff, wondering why I was so fascinated by this Pokemon. I loved everything about it. It had this adorable corona of whiskers like a halo around its face. I loved its dainty cream colored paws, like mittens compared to the soft purple shade of its body. Did it look like every other Rattata? Yes, basically, but it was then, thousands of miles from their native habitat, that I realized exactly how beautiful Rattata were. I loved, most of all, the Rattata's ears, so smooth and round.

The Rattata stared at me, chirped, and squeaked lightly. It nudged me with its cool, wet nose, and began to lick me.

"May I pick you up?" I asked. The Rattata nodded. I picked it up gingerly, as though I was carrying the world itself in my arms, and clutched it to my chest. It made a strange noise with its teeth. Grinding teeth was the rat equivalent of purring, I then remembered suddenly, as if in a dream. I held it in my arms out, so I could look at it.

"You're a girl, right?" I hazarded a guess. It was so damn adorable, what else could it be?

It shook its head, and actually blushed a bit.

"Oh," I said, blushing to, feeling terrible for making such a vital mistake. "I'm so sorry!" _He_ batted a paw and me in mock anger, and bared his two main incisors with a playful growl.

"Can I call you Maestro?" I asked hesitantly. "It means someone who controls the music. You make my heart sing." I said. I didn't know why I felt so much for the little Rattata, but I did. At the time, I didn't even stop to think that this must be what Dad felt for Pikachu. He nodded, and then proceeded to lick my face.

"And now, umm, shiny Dratini goes to, umm, room 1-09!" I was about to go up and get the Pokeball, and realized that I had gotten room 1-09a. Maestro chirped and curled up in a ball against my chest, tired.

Lavender ran up with a shining look of that adorable pure happiness. She let the Dratini out of its Pokeball. The magenta colored dragon Pokemon warbled a birdlike chirp.

"Hi, I'm Lavender, and I can tell already that we're going to be best friends!" She gathered the slightly protesting Dratini into her arms without a moment's notice. She kissed it on the jewel on the top of its head, and it blushed pinker.

"I'll call her Rouge!" She added in an awed, somewhat starstruck voice, "It's French for 'pink.' Isn't French so _romantic, _Peter?"

Peter cleared his throat, and tried to get the look of greed out of his eyes. He instead did something I would never have expected of him.

He slid closer to her, and wrapped an arm around her slender waist.

"Hey, baby Lav," he said, whispering into her ear. "Congrats on the Dratini. You have a nice, long, training ahead of you."

"A _long_ time?" Lavender piped up, blushing furiously. He put his hand on hers.

"Yeah, that's right, baby. It usually takes _years _to train a Dratini!"

"Wow, that IS a long time," she said stupidly. He stroked her hair with the hand that a second ago had been holding hers.

"Yeah, so what do you say you trade that Dratini of yours for my big, strong Kricketune? You know it's already _at _its highest evolution." She looked from her Dratini to Peter, and back again, with ever increasing frequency. Finally, he did it; he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

Maestro squeaked loudly, as if to say "Don't do it!" I had wanted to shout out the exact same thing. I stroked his soft ears, and said lightly, softly, so as not to disturb the theft going on only a few feet away from me, "I'll _never _trade you away unless you want to be." Maestro squeaked happily, as if to say "I'll never want to be traded away." My heart grew warmer and fuzzier at this, and a stupid, happy grin even alighted on my face.

During this, as though in a trance, her eyes glazed over, Lavender handed the ball for the Dratini to Peter, and he handed the ball for Kricketune to Lavender.

Fed up, I told Lavender I was going back to my room. I all of a sudden worried about what Pichu would tell Maestro. I set Maestro on my lap, and said,

"I do have one other Pokemon, I hope you'll become good friends with it. You see, it's a Pichu, and we don't really get along. Please try not to believe everything it says. You see, it's disposed to dislike me. Its father tried to kill me when I was a baby." Maestro squeaked in sympathy.

"Don't let it push you around though," I said. "Your attacks are tackle and tail whip, right?" Maestro nodded.

"Obviously, use your good judgment. Don't do anything you shouldn't." Maestro nodded again.

"PIIIIIII!" Pichu shrieked at the top of its lungs as soon as I opened the door. I instantly tossed Maestro onto the loveseat before he, too, was flooded with electricity. Maestro looked a bit offended that I chucked him, but as soon as he saw me zapped with electricity, I assume he understood. He then tackled the Pichu to the ground, and starting squeaking quickly.

"Pichu," I said, still standing up, but in a lot of muscle pain, "I'd like you to meet Maestro. I hope you two will be great friends!"

Pichu crossed its arms and humphed. Maestro squeaked adorably, trying to make friends.

Then, Lavender ran in. "I think Peter likes me!" She squealed. "Did you see him? He was touching my hair, and holding my hand, and touching my hair! And I got a Cricketune!"

I was honestly about ready to kill that repetitive girl.

"No! Can't you see? He might have liked you, but he was doing all that stuff to get your new Shiny Dratini."

Lavender thought about it for a second, and her face crumpled up sadly, and she burst into tears. I awkwardly patted her on the back, but her face dived into my shoulder, and she sobbed there, cute sniffly little sobs of a tiny, quiet despair.

"There, there. You do have other Pokemon, right?" Lavender nodded.

"It must feel so sad though! I mean, I claimed to like it and then I traded it off!" I was surprised at such an insight coming from her.

"You're going to the Hoenn contests, right?" She nodded.

"Well, after Hoenn, I'm going to Johto and Kanto. In Kanto, I promise you I'll catch you a Dratini and send it to you. OK?" Lavender nodded, and pulled out a lace edged lavender handkerchief and blew her nose in a way that seemed adorable. And then it occurred to me. Yes, she was better looking than me, so I resented her, and yes, she was so stupid it was hard to believe she was alive. But, because of that stupidity, it was my duty to protect little Ms. Perfect. I stood up straight and tall, and all of a sudden, Lavender gave me this fierce hug, which knocked me straight down onto the loveseat.

She got up off of me after a second, and smiled, and skipped into her room, singing "I'm gonna take a _bubble _bath!" She squeaked the word 'bubble' adorably, high-pitched as ever. I rolled my eyes. Apparently it didn't take her long to recover. But I wouldn't recover from that revelation of mine.

Meanwhile, Maestro and Pichu were done battling, and Maestro jumped onto the loveseat, his tail curling and uncurling energetically. He licked my face, and I smiled. Pichu glared at Maestro and me. Was it jealous? I couldn't tell.

"Umm, Lavender?" I asked.

"Yeah?" She said. Her head poked out of the bathroom. Her lavender hair was wet and fell against the side of her face.

"I'll need to share the bed with you. Remember? My room is just the teeny part of the honeymoon suite."

Lavender blushed and giggled. "It'll be just like a sleepover party!" She clapped her hands together behind the door, and said, "Hey, do you want to come in the bubble bath with me? We could put our bathing suits on!"

I sighed. "Maybe some other time, Lavender. But hey, when we get out of the bathtub, could I see your Pokemon, other than that cricket thingy?"

"What? I couldn't hear you!" She yelled, over the sound of the tub filling.

"Never mind," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Hey Pichu," I said, approaching the rodent with caution. "You get the whole loveseat! I remember you liked my sleeping bag, and this is almost the same amount of space. Do you want me to get you a pillow, or my sleeping bag?" Pichu huffed and nodded for the second one.

"Maestro, do you want to sleep on the bed, there's plenty of room!" Maestro nodded after a moment of thought, and climbed into the enormous bed. His twitching nose poked out from a particularly large pile of rose petals, and I just cracked up.

Lavender came out wearing only two lavender barrettes and a fluffy lavender towel. "What's so funny?" She asked. I smiled,

"I'll leave so you can change," I said, and retreated to the other room, where Pichu glared at me.

"Okay, I mean, I'm sorry." I fumbled guiltily for a reason it was so irate. "Do you actually want to sleep on the bed with me?" Wrong answer. I found my body, again, flooded with electricity.

"Look," I snapped. "I know you don't exactly love me, but can you try for at least a little civility? Is there nothing in my personality worth your consideration?" The yellow rodent stubbornly shook its little head, which was very oversized for its body.

"Do you like Peter?" I asked jealously, wondering if it really only just hated me. Pichu shrugged.

"Do you like Lavender?" I asked, curious. Pichu shook its head vehemently.

"Oh. Well," I lowered my voice down to a whisper, "She's not the smartest person around," at this Pichu scoffed, "but she's alright. Okay?" Pichu shook its head, and said, "Pii," in an aggravated manner.

"Well, I'm sorry I can't understand you, and you're clearly trying to convey something…"

Maestro squeaked from within the other room. I hastily pat the Pichu on the head, and it shocked me.

"Try not to worry, okay? I mean, Ash understands your father perfectly. I'll get to understand you in time. As soon as I do, tell me what's worrying you." I shivered at the mention of Ash's best friend, my almost murderer. Pichu noticed, and shocked me again, harder this time. Aww, the little sweetie, I thought. It's really warming up to me.


	5. Cruise: Damage

A Journey

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: Another long chapter, I guess that will be _de rigueur_ from now on, although some of my chapters will be shorter than others. This is also full of content, although no battles yet. I guess that makes this less cliché, which isn't a bad thing.

…

The next day I awoke, I was as surprised to find myself on a boat as I was to find a cuddly purple rat curled up in my arms. Then, I remembered, looked around, and found Lavender gone. Maestro licked my face, and woke slowly, and I hugged him close and stroked his ears.

I walked into what was technically my room, and found Pichu a little ball curled up on top of my sleeping bag. It looked very adorable when it was asleep and all the hatred had left its face, although I knew implicitly that if I told it that, it might shock me until I could no longer stand.

Maestro ground his teeth together in laughter, and I patted the top of his head.

There was a knock on my door, and I opened it up, expecting to see Lavender. Instead, Peter was outside.

"Can I come in?" I nodded, and sat on the bed in Lavender's part of the honeymoon suite. He sat down to. I stared at him. I knew that I should be mad at him for conniving poor Lavender out of a Shiny Dratini, but my heart thumped faster when he sat right next to me. That coffee colored hair stuck up in the oddest places, and his blindingly ice blue eyes, staring piercingly at me in a way that made my spine tingle.

The words out of his mouth were equally unexpected and pleasant.

"I kind of feel bad about what I did to Lavender. You know?" I nodded.

"Why don't you just trade back, though?" I had to ask.

"I don't know…" He trailed off. "I mean, Pokemon training is harder for me than for other people. Just this once, I want a leg up. You know?"

I nodded. I knew _exactly _how he felt.

"Training isn't easy for me either. I mean, given my dad, I'm expected to do really good, but it's not easy. I have a Rattata," at this Maestro jumped onto the bed and licked my face, "and a Pichu who hates me."

"What did you say about your dad?" He asked interestedly. Oh yeah. I hadn't told him I was Ash's daughter.

"Forget it."

"And I _still _don't know your name."

Thankfully, Lavender walked in that very moment.

"Hey!" She said. I was grateful she didn't call me by my name (how many 'Twigs' are there anyways?), but maybe it was because she couldn't remember it (I wouldn't put that past her). She wore a lavender sweatband and was in a lavender jogging suit. She had six Pokeballs, (the white parts of which were colored lavender with a sharpie) attached to her lavender belt. She was sweating a lot, as well, but it beaded up on her face adorably, and of course she didn't smell.

"I just went for a run around the boat!"

"Hey, Lavender, could I see some of your Pokemon?" I asked, hoping that Peter would back me up on this.

"There's a school of Luvdisc! Do you want to go see, Peter?" She asked quickly. Hearing there were new Pokemon to be found, he forgot what I had just said.

"Sure!" He ran out of there with Lavender. Maestro looked up at me with his intelligent red eyes, and I sighed.

"Yes, I like him. He's annoying, conceited, and everything, but he's really cute." Maestro rolled his eyes and squeaked full of amusement.

"What the hell do you do for fun on a ship anyways?" I wondered to myself.

I pulled out my backpack from my side of the room, and I found my Pokedex, and looked up Luvdisc. The Pokedex intoned,

**Luvdisc, the Rendezvous Pokémon. During the spawning season, countless Luvdisc congregate at coral reefs, turning the waters pink. Its heart-shaped body is a symbol of love and romance. It is said that any couple meeting a Luvdisc is promised a loving relationship that never ends. It lives in shallow seas in the tropics. **

All of a sudden, I thought to myself, "That little minx! She's just trying to get him to see the Luvdisc so he'll fall in love with her!"

I scooped up Maestro, said a hurried goodbye to Pichu, brushed my hair and teeth with lightning speed, and ran out to the front deck of the boat. I saw Lavender kissing Peter. It was a chaste, closed-lips kiss, but still, it made me really mad. Maestro squeaked in sympathy, and climbed lightly up my clothes onto my shoulder. He fit comfortably.

"Hey, that's cool," I said to my new right-hand rat. Or right-shoulder rat. He ground his teeth happily and licked my ear, which tickled enormously. I jumped. Peter and Lavender saw me. Peter looked alarmingly casual about it, but Lavender jumped as well, and blushed scarlet.

Peter held hands, and gave a disturbingly tender look to Lavender. "Hey, babe, I love you so much, okay?" Lavender nodded, but just stared at me, scared.

I tried to maintain my composure. I mean, she was way too stupid to figure out that I liked Peter. Still, though, you know? It pissed me off.

I looked into the murky brown waters, and had a strong urge to shove her in. Then, I saw the head of a fish Pokemon who looked a bit like Swiss cheese, brownish yellow and porous, staring at me.

Maestro stared at it. I knew in a sudden second that I wanted to catch it. I nodded to Maestro, and he ran over to get Pichu. Pichu could shock the fish, I could throw the ball.

Peter walked over to me, as Lavender ran away.

"Do you have any idea how happy I am?" He asked. "I mean, man, I was just staring at those fish and it hit me. She's the one. She's so perfect. I love everything about her. I love that hair of hers…"

Pichu came and shocked Peter. He still sounded stoned, but he looked a bit more aware. I could have hugged Pichu.

"Pichu, could you _please_ do me a favor?" I wheedled. It stared at me as though to say, 'go ahead, make my day.'

"Please just thundershock that fish there, you know, the one that looks like Swiss cheese?" Pichu stifled back a snort. "Come on, _please? _You know if I get a combative Pokemon I won't have to rely on you. Remember how I said that once I catch some good Pokemon you can go? Just this fish, and freedom is yours," I wheedled.

It rolled its eyes, and directed its lightest thundershock towards the fish. Since the fish was covered in water, it was greatly magnified, so it was right to do only a small one. I instantly threw the Pokeball, and given how injured it was, it clicked instantly, before flying back up to me. I thanked Pichu, but Pichu was silent and unresponsive. Maestro licked me in excitement.

"I'll train you up a bit, Maestro," I explained. "But Rattata like are literally the weakest Pokemon other than Caterpie and Weedle, and even those bugs evolve into something stronger than a Raticate. I still love you, obviously. I would even if you were a Magikarp" And I did love him, the way I'd love my brother. Maestro nodded, and squeaked, as though to say 'you too.' I now realized that Ash felt this way about Pikachu. But, he let Pikachu fight dangerous Pokemon, and do things that could get him killed. Why the hell would I let Maestro ever do anything dangerous?

I went back to my room, and headed straight into the shared bathroom, and filled the bathtub as quickly as I could. I stopped it and ran to the on-board Pokemon center. The Pokeball was popped in the machine, and it was healed.

I ran back to the gigantic bathtub, and released the healed Pokemon. It had a black eye ring and pink, almost humanlike lips. It stared at me rather vacantly. I really wanted to tell somebody about it, but not Lavender. She didn't deserve to hear it.

However, she appeared in the doorway anyways. "Wow, a Feebas!" She said. "They're the only Pokemon who evolve by maxing out their beauty points in a contest! They evolve into a Milotic. They're so pretty, one of my favorite Pokemon."

I grunted at her, as I really didn't care.

"Umm, would you be interested in a trade?" She asked quietly, playing with her fingers in a way I would have found adorable was I not pissed at her for totally stealing Peter.

Just because of how annoyed I was at her, I was inclined to say no. Then I looked up the attacks that a Feebas could learn until it evolved on my Pokedex. It could learn Splash, Tackle, and Flail. How could I use it as a competitive Pokemon? If a wild Pokemon attacked me, I couldn't depend on Pichu to fight, and Maestro would be too weak. Swallowing my dislike, I said,

"What Pokemon would you give me in exchange?"

"Would you like Kricketune?" She asked hesitantly, knowing how I felt about her owning the creature.

I thought about it for a minute. The Kricketune, although his stats wouldn't be great, would still probably know a couple of advanced attacks. Looking at my Pokedex, I saw that it would have to at least be level 10, so it might know a good attack or two. I checked the description.

**It crosses its knifelike arms in front of its chest when it cries. It can compose melodies ad lib. It signals its emotions with its melodies. Scientists are studying these melodic patterns.**

"Alright," I said with a sigh. "On one condition. If you can get the Feebas to evolve, we trade back, alright?" I asked, even though Milotic was one of her favorite Pokemon; she could do the hard work, I could reap the benefits.

Lavender sighed and nodded, and gave me a hug. "Thank you _so _much!" She squeaked. She handed me Cricketune's Pokeball.

I stared apologetically at the Feebas.

"You probably wouldn't want me to train you anyways. See, I wouldn't be able to evolve you, and clearly if you evolve by beauty maxed out, you want to be beautiful, and therefore want to do contests, which I don't do. I'm sorry," I said, not particularly regretfully.

The fish stared vacantly, and I recalled it, and handed the Pokeball to Lavender. We each recorded the trade in our Pokedex.

I went back to my side of the room, with Maestro on my shoulder.

Pichu glared at me, and sat on the loveseat with its tail pointed, as though daring me to sit down.

I just sat in a small chair, and released the Kricketune. It was three feet tall, and had a long mustache, which was a sign that it was male, according to the Pokedex. He also had useless wings he couldn't really fly with. He warbled an uncertain hello.

"You've been traded around a lot, but you won't be for a while. I won't lie and say that I will never trade you at all, because that I might, and in fact I probably will, but not for a long time. The Rattata is Maestro, and he's not really a battling Pokemon. Neither is Pichu, here." Pichu glared furiously at me and shocked me. I stood my ground, but just barely. I smiled; I _was _getting better. The Kricketune whistled something that had the human tone of "Oh, dearie me."

"So I'll need your help in terms of being my main battling Pokemon until I can get a Pokemon more suited to fighting. Also, do you want a name?"  
The Kricketune shrugged. "Well, Maestro is named for a conductor, so why not call you something musical as well? I mean, you like music, right?" The Kricketune nodded eagerly.

"So I thought. You know I used to play the violin, but it didn't go too well."

He trilled uncertainly. It occurred to me that a wild Sinnoh bug might not know the finer points of human orchestral music.

"Oh, humans who don't want to use their voices to make music make instruments, or wood and metal things that make a different kind of music. I'll make it a point to show you sometime." He eagerly nodded, once again.

"I think I might call you Chopin," I said. "He was someone who invented his own tunes on something called a piano, which has like 80 different notes." The Kricketune's eyes widened, probably at the thought of having so many notes with which to sing.

"Once again, I'll be happy to show you a piano and stuff, but you'll need to battle for me. I'm not just saying this selfishly, I also really don't want to have anything happen to Maestro or Pichu."

Pichu looked up, grumbled, and resumed thinking about whatever it was thinking.

Lavender poked her head in, and exclaimed, "I named it Ecru! Is that okay?"

I nodded with a roll of my eyes. Ecru was, if I recalled, a shade reserved for fancy tablecloths, not a Pokemon that resembled a Swiss Cheese with fins.

I told her that much.

"It's for once it _evolves, _silly!" She squeaked the word 'evolved', and clutched her hands together, smiling cutely, eyes closed. It occurred to me that I'd have the Feebas once it had evolved, and I'd have to deal with it being named after a color of luxury wallpaper.

Chopin warbled something to Maestro, who sneezed in a way that was so much more adorable than anything anyone but Lavender could do. I gestured to Maestro, and he hopped onto my lap. His whiskers tickled my nose as he squeaked affectionately. Chopin crossed his knife-ish arms in front of him and warbled a strangely exultant tune.

I still was very unhappy about being uprooted from my family and my friends. However, Maestro was cool. But I still doubted he was worth the fear I got when I woke up, or the knowledge that I was a thousand miles away from home with the Earth equivalent of twenty dollars, and that it was the fault of my father. Just thinking about how I was alienated from my friends made me the angriest.

I couldn't believe I had forgotten about my friends, that huge part of my life! Maestro was neat, but my friends were my LIFE. I had only three really good friends, but they were extremely important to me. One of them didn't really know the others; I hadn't talked physically to Benny since I was eight.

Benny is Brock's youngest brother, and shows as little interest in Pokemon as I did. He is now 22, and I'm 13. I guess some people would find that creepy, but he doesn't make friends very easily. He's into art, and unlike just about all artists, he doesn't like drawing the varied and majestic forms of Pokemon. The simple, weak human form captivates him. I still had the picture he drew of me a week before he left to study art under Tracy Sketchit. I had written him extensively, though, and we were basically pen pals.

I didn't even have that drawing anymore! I realized that it was now thousands of miles away. He could see, unlike the rest of Brock's family, because he didn't have Optical Precancerous Myopia. In other words, unlike the rest of his family's rare condition, Benny was born with visible eyes. They were naturally a mucky brown color, but his red contacts made him look vaguely demonic. I knew better, though. He was a socially awkward sweetie, very quiet, very caring.

However, if I called him, I mused, he'd probably be so surprised that he'd die of shock. Then again, I could always call Jacqueline, May's daughter, my best female friend. The daughter of the Champion Co-ordinator is similar to me in that she doesn't like the same things as her famous parent. On the other hand, though, she wants to be a Pokemon Breeder. At least what she wanted to do involved Pokemon, May had reasoned about her daughter. So, Jacqueline was living at Brock's Breeding Boutique. She is a bit of a Goth (that is an understatement), which May also doesn't like. When she was 10, just to get some powerful Pokemon to start her breeding stock, she did go on a one-year super quick Training journey. Maybe I could turn to her for advice on how to survive the journey I'd been forced upon.

However, there was someone, the person I knew the best in the entire world. Paulo Oak, son of Professor Gary, my father's rival. Dad probably thought that I wouldn't like him because he didn't like Gary, but he's like my friend soulmate.

Paulo even LOOKS like me! He has this floppy brown hair, and enigmatic dark eyes. We often get mistaken for brother and sister. And we _do_ know each other extremely well, so that doesn't do much to disprove the theory. He's quiet, not nearly as much as Benny, but still quiet. Once he gets to know you, however, he can like blow you over. He's really funny, because he is sarcastic beyond belief, but has a serious sounding voice.

I was startled out of my reverie by the sound of Pichu angrily zapping Maestro. I reached in and grabbed him, smelling the acrid scent of zapped fur.

"What'd you do _that _for, Pichu?" Pichu stubbornly glared at me, and pointed its tail towards me.

"Do you need to shock me every second of the day?" The Pikachu nodded. Chopin, meanwhile, shook his head, clicking his tongue, perhaps wondering what he had gotten himself into. I smiled nervously at Chopin, really trying to convey my sanity, which he probably questioned because that I owned Pichu.

"Umm, guys, I'm going to use the phone to talk to a couple of friends back home. Do any of you want to come with me and see what they look like?"

Maestro nodded, and scurried up to my shoulder, and pushed his cold nose into my ear, making me laugh. Chopin warbled something that had the human tone of voice 'Sure, why not?' (I was glad that he could use tones so much better than other Pokemon, because his voice actually had the musical cadences of the human voice, so I could infer more from his tone than I could from my other Pokemon) Pichu glared, and sat down, crossing its diminutive arms over its tiny chest.

"Okay then!" I said happily, secretly relieved that the little monster wasn't coming along. Chopin walked alongside me, keeping up rather well given that he wasn't more than three feet tall. He hummed a deep bass note that sent tingles down my spine.

I smiled at him, and rubbed Maestro's ears as I walked over to the phones, on the third deck.

Chopin hummed something that sounded suspiciously familiar to the theme of 'Titanic' as we walked right up against the rails, watching the waves. I glanced at him sharply, wondering how a wild Pokemon would be acquainted with chick flick music, and he trailed off mid-note. Maestro ground his teeth in amusement, until he saw my look.

I settled down in front of a video telephone screen, and typed in the number of Brock's Breeding Boutique.

"You've reached the triple B," Brock himself said, with a five o clock shadow, even though it was late at least eleven o clock in the morning.

"Is Jacqueline there?"

"Twig, is that you? It's so dark, I can't tell! I'll get her for you!"

Jacqueline came in a second; cradling a small Poochyena puppy in her arms, bottle feeding it as she spoke.

"Hey, Twig! Where've you been? I tried to call your house twice, but your dad said you were out?" She added a questioning tone to the end of most of her sentences. I personally viewed it as very endearing, how unsure she was, despite her punk Goth look.

I told her how I had woken up in Sinnoh, away from friends and family, with only a Pichu for companion.

"Your dad started you off with a baby Pokemon?" She asked, wincing slightly. "That's tough." She said matter-of-factly, but with some sympathy thrown in on the side. The puppy sucked on the nipple of the bottle and wagged his tail happily. Her mascara-rimmed dark eyes turned towards him, and she started baby talking to it, while making sure her spiked bracelet didn't hit the innocent puppy.

She was SUCH a contradiction of terms.

"But yeah, did you get any good Pokemon?"

I gestured to the Rattata on my shoulder, as if to say 'duh.'

"It looks like a normal Rattata," she said doubtfully, "but I'm sure it has a great personality!" She added a bit uncertainly.

Chopin stepped out from behind and waved a hello.

"Is that a Sinnoh Pokemon? It looks like a cricket!" Chopin nodded, and warbled happily.

"So where's the baby Pokemon you started with?" Just on cue, I felt electricity coursing through me, Maestro, and Chopin. Chopin responded with an offended tweet, and he walked out, presumably back to the room. Pichu began squeaking, waving its arms, looking towards the door uncertainly. At this Maestro jumped off of my shoulder, and began to run away as quickly as he could.

When I didn't understand it, it became angry, and gave me an even more painful shocking.

Jacqueline laughed, but her image flickered, and then disappeared in an explosion of static. The video screen emitted a curl of smoke. I glared at Pichu.

"Way to short out my connection, baby genius." I said with an unhappy, sarcastic sigh. Pichu rolled its eyes, and beckoned for me to follow. It then began to run in a tottery, short sort of way, and I followed it.


	6. Cruise: Fuel

A Journey

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: A short chapter this time. A battle is almost starting, so we're getting into cliché Pokemon area, I suppose. At least the battler isn't the protagonist.

…

Pichu led me to the big Dining Hall.

"You shorted out the video screen so I could get you lunch?" I was incredulous. Of course, then I heard its stomach growl. That _was _pretty loud, I admitted to myself.

Lavender and Peter waved us over to their table. Maestro was already eating off of a plate stacked high with fruit. The sticky juice colored his snout.

"I got some food for your rat," Peter said idly, sounding back to his normal, conceited self. Maestro growled, annoyed.

"Thanks. Maestro, if you eat that much fruit, you're going to get diarrhea." Lavender looked like she was about to say "Eww!" in a cute voice.

Maestro gestured with his nose to a pile of bananas off to the side. Bananas, in case you didn't know, caused constipation, which would stop diarrhea in its tracks.

"How did you know that bananas would stop you from having diarrhea?" I asked.

Maestro shrugged, as though to imply he learned it from the wild.

Meanwhile, my Kricketune pawed through a salad. He examined a crouton, before deciding to eat it gingerly. Chopin warbled a note of surprise, and then crowed in delight.

I got up, went to the buffet, and got him a bowl of croutons. He grabbed the croutons in his swordlike arms, and proceeded to open his mouth very wide, and pour all the croutons down his throat.

"Wow." I said, grinning at Chopin, who gave an ashamed little whistle. I stared happily at Lavender and Peter, who raised an eyebrow, (hopefully) wondering how he could have known his Kricketune so little.

Chopin didn't seem bitter at lunching with his former owner, however. He did, however, seem to have a strange infatuation with croutons, and he was delighted, happily trilling now.

So there it was, with Peter conceited but oh-so attractive trainer, Lavender, the incredibly stupid but pretty coordinator, Pichu, who growled as I looked at it, and bit angrily into an apple, Maestro, whose personality was so attuned to mine that I could sometimes almost understand him, Chopin, the expressive singer/battler, and through this all, there was me. I was still irate about training, of course, but I had seemed to pick up a strange and unusual group of people and Pokemon; one could almost call it a family.

I laughed to myself awkwardly.

"So, what are we doing this afternoon?" I asked. I stated the 'we' just to remind Peter that he shouldn't just be infatuated with Lavender, if he still was.

"Well, I'm going to battle in the Battle Room," Peter said in that lofty voice of his.

"And I'll cheer you on!" Lavender cried enthusiastically.

"I'll watch too, I guess," I said with a shrug. "I'm not much for battling. Sound okay with you guys?" I asked my Pokemon. What a weird idea, that I now had real Pokemon.

Pichu growled, Chopin shrugged, and Maestro hopped onto my shoulder and affectionately lashed his tail, spitting out a skinless grape onto the table. He could be so charming sometimes. As I rubbed his ears, his eyes narrowed, two tired, happy slits, and he ground his teeth slowly.

"Are there any contests, Lavender?" I asked her politely, trying to control my annoyance at her; if it wasn't for her, I mused, I wouldn't have Chopin, and I'd be stuck with that boring, if rare, fish.

"No," she said sadly. "I mostly just jog around here, to lose my tummy fat." She giggled. I stared incredulously at her nonexistent stomach.

"What 'tummy fat'?" I asked, using air quotes and a sarcastic voice. Peter snorted appreciatively, making me feel proud.

"I should probably go to the battle, now." Peter said. "I must win as soon as possible." There, _that _was the Peter I know, not drunk on some love-fish.

I nudged Maestro, and he stared plaintively at his plate of fruit. I sighed, and shook my head, and I grabbed a pomegranate and three bananas. Maestro nodded, satisfied, and hopped onto my shoulder. Chopin, noting the end of the croutons, warbled sadly and got up. I walked with them, and asked Pichu, "Are you coming?" Pichu shocked me, in an almost cursory manner, and started running after me.

"So what are your plans?" I asked Peter in earnest, hoping I could make up for the competitive edge Lavender had in the looks department by being genuinely interested.

"Well," he said, pretending to think, "I'm going to start with Infernape, and END with Infernape." Lavender laughed coquettishly at his less-than-hilarious joke, obviously trying to get him to return to his besotted Luvdisc-influenced self. Well, I wasn't going to let her. I needed to stay ahead by playing on the one thing that she didn't have- intelligence.

At least if I was going to be stuck training, I would get a guy. I don't know what it was about Peter that appealed to me so much. He was a bad Pokemon trainer, and his conceit left much to be desired. On the other hand, though, he could have moments of vulnerability, I thought, remembering his talk with me in Lavender's room.

I walked with him, whistling amusedly, while Chopin hummed in harmony.

He finally approached a room labeled 'Battle Room,' and stepped on through, smirking to himself, probably in anticipation of his battle, and, I assumed that he assumed, his next victory.


	7. Cruise: Innocence

A Journey

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: Another short chapter this time. So no battle yet, but the immunization is just my attempt to explain canon, such as the fact that Ash can be shocked and set on fire and James can be bitten by a poisonous Victreebell and become immune to it. It's just an extension of the human abilities for becoming less sensitive to the elements, just as Pokemon attacks are extensions of the natural abilities animals possess that help them survive.

…

Peter sized up his opponent, although probably not in the way she wanted him to. It was the hot girl, I remembered from seeing her at the Pokemon raffle. She wore, again, a simple cami, black this time, which her round, firm breasts were bulging against. She obviously expected most of her battlers to be male, and teenaged. Peter didn't even look down her cleavage, which would have been extremely easy. No, he just stared at her, eyes set determinedly, a look I hadn't seen since I saw old pictures of my dad when he was about to battle. He smiled, and gallantly called out his Pokemon first, giving her the advantage. Obviously, he sent out Infernape. Is anybody really surprised? She, on the other hand, sent out instead a strange Pokemon vaguely resembling an Aipom, only it was bigger, and had two prehensile tails instead of one.

"An Ambipom!" Lavender squealed, clutching her hands together in excitement. Pichu, with an uncharacteristic nonchalance, hopped up onto my shoulder to get a better view. Maestro, who was already on my shoulder, squeaked ambiguously. I couldn't tell if he minded or not. Chopin stood up on the bench intended for viewers, his three feet of height still not affording him the best vantage point.

Peter scoffed slightly, assuming that this would be easy, but he wasn't positive. He stared at Infernape, and nodded.

"Bulk Up!" Infernape let out a battle cry, which had no effect on the Ambipom whatsoever, and began flexing his enormous, rippling muscles.

"Infernape is using Bulk Up, an attack which increases his physical attack power and his defense against physical attacks at the same time," offered a boy who looked to be ten, holding an enormous Pokedex which was around the size of a computer, and a blocky gray. Pichu took a look at the electronic, and sniffed it in a way I would have found cute, had the Pokemon in question not been a sadistic maniac.

Sure to its personality, it grinned, and Thundershocked the huge Pokedex, and therefore the small boy. The boy didn't seem to have my size advantage, so he fell on the ground, screaming and writhing. The referee leapt from the battle, hastily signaling a time out.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" The referee shouted at the Pichu. Pichu squeaked angrily, and the boy twitched an arm. Maestro, ears swiveled towards the referee, offered a helpful squeak. Chopin, meanwhile, had run fearfully to the top of the bleachers, and was staring down.

However, thankfully, the boy got up, and dusted himself off, and laughed.

"I was immunized to electricity when I was a baby. Sorry to fool you!"

Immunization to Pokemon attacks as a baby, when it didn't kill the child, was extremely effective. In just a couple of shocks every day for a few weeks, you could be immune to electric attacks, completely immune, for the rest of your life. However, since when it didn't make the child stronger, it killed the child, few people would risk that to their child. It was popular to do Immunization some time ago, starting twenty years before I was born, ending 10 years before I was born, starting when Ash was around 10, but now it was almost unheard of due to the fatality rate.

"You survived Electric immunization?" the Referee asked, also surprised that the boy must have been Immunized only 10 years ago, when it was frowned upon.

"Yes. And Fire immunization for up to about 15 minutes, and all Dragon attacks, all Water attacks, as long as I can still breathe, almost all Grass Attacks, all Psychic, Dark, and Ghost attacks, some Ice, a bit of ground, and most long-range attacks, as well as almost all special attacks. The only kinds I'm NOT immune to are Flying, Fighting, Normal, Rock, and Steel!"

He said this all with the happy aplomb of a small child, not so much bragging as just telling his life story, which he had clearly repeated many times before, to a proverbial wall. Really, for his age, he did have a certain immaturity about him. He had a brilliant white blond hair, which would probably darken with age, and sandy brown eyebrows, comically mismatching to his hair, and one brown eye and one blue. So he generally mismatched. He clutched his enormous, bulky machine to his chest.

The referee stared at him, clearly surprised. I mean, I was shocked too, because that immunizing a kid to one element was dangerous enough, but immunization to almost all of them was downright foolhardy. And somehow, he still seemed reasonably normal, and reasonably alive.

The referee, remembering his duty in the battle, shook his head, and leaped back into the ring.

"Sorry about my Pichu," I offered the kid, who was furiously punching things into his Pokedex.

"No problem," he said, "but your Pichu's Thundershock was about twice as powerful than it should have at its evolution. Now if you don't mind, I have some calculating to do. I need to figure out if I should make this Bet."

"What?" I asked, wondering exactly why a ten year old geek would need a Pokedex machine to decide whether or not to gamble.

"It's how gyms and stuff make money. People gamble on who they believe will win. I get to call my bet first. And if I lose, I have to pay up half my money. If I win, I get the amount I would have to pay up. That way, people won't go saying that they have less money to pay up with, because then they'd get less as well. I'm a Pokemon Better. Now I NEED to decide who to bet on."

The referee grunted to himself, making sure that the Pokemon were still in preliminary fighting condition. Lavender asked the boy, "How do you know which one to bet on?"

Even I could have guessed the answer, and I rolled my eyes.

"Type, level, and general Pokemon stats. I use my Calcudex to help me with that, but I'm starting to memorize it. Now let me work." He snapped, plugging numbers in furiously.

Lavender's brow furrowed in what appeared to be a brain overload.

"Like what stats?" She asked quietly, almost as if she knew this would bother him (Way to go, Lavender!)

He snarled at her forcefully, "Shut. Up!" Showing that he did have the maturity of a small child as well. Finally, he stopped calculating. After a moment of deliberation, he pressed one final button, then sighed.

"You could have waited. I mean stats like how strong their physical and special attacks and defense are, their endurance, and their speed. This one's a pretty even match. Ambipom is 20 levels higher, but Infernape still has the same amount of attack strength. Ambipom has a teeny bit less defense, but is a LOT faster. However, Infernape's fighting attacks have a type advantage. It's a pretty even match. If Infernape's attacks can hit the Ambipom, then it'll be a clear-cut victory. I bet on the Infernape, so I hope it wins."

The hot girl bent over a little bit to shake his hand, showing off her cleavage, which was completely unnecessary and slutty. I frowned in jealousy and annoyance. I hated it more when that whore hit on Peter than when Lavender did. I turned and looked at her, her mouth in an 'o' of wonder and awe at the Pokemon battle between two such powerful Pokemon.

The boy sat, tense, hands gripping the edge of the bleacher like he was holding on for dear life. Pichu humphed, crossed its tiny arms, and turned away. However, I could see its eyes still focused on the battle field out of the corner of its eyes. Even it, in all of its electric savagery was riveted by the battle. Why? This battle game was stupid, violent, coercion, forcing Pokemon to fight… right?

On the other hand, that Infernape, as he glared at the Ambipom, looked like he wanted nothing more than to rip the monkey to shreds. Why was he so aggressive? I mean, was there a reason he hated the monkey? Did he just really WANT to battle?

Either way, the battle was starting, and I couldn't look away, no matter how much I hated it.


	8. Cruise: Primative

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: I am proud of the battle scene, which was meticulously researched, so if you can find any errors within it, by all means, please point them out to me.

…

"Infernape, Bulk Up!" Peter called as he had done before. Infernape began to stretch his muscles out, as he had done earlier. It was somewhat interesting to watch the giant, furred muscles contract like coiled rope, but I had thought that Pokemon battles were somewhat quicker than this.

"Ambipom, use Agility!" The girl called, and the strange monkey with hands tipping its tails began to run around in a circle extremely quickly, the centripetal force helping it gain a frenzied speed. Pokemon battles _were _'quicker than this', I realized in response to my thoughts of a few seconds ago.

Peter's face shone with determination; his face didn't even fall a bit.

"Ambipom, use Screech!" Ambipom opened its mouth wide and began to unleash an unholy, painful sound.

The boy sighed. "Great, it's a stat lowerer. You know, the kind of Pokemon trainer who has their Pokemon use attacks that make the opponent Pokemon weaker without attacking them? They can lay low even legendaries with enough time. You know what I mean, right?"

I blushed slightly. What an idiot upstart. "Of course I know that," I said icily, and completely falsely.

Meanwhile, Infernape was just continuing to Bulk Up, until finally its muscles were much more noticeable than before.

"Alright, enough Infernape! Will-O-Wisp!" Infernape grinned and hooted a laugh which sounded extremely sinister considering that it came from a monkey.

Infernape breathed in slowly, and deeply exhaled a tiny glowing spark. The glowing spark instantly flew towards the Ambipom, which tried to dodge, but the fast spark kept up, and singed Ambipom right on one of its sensitive tail hands.

Peter allowed himself a grin now. The small spark had done its work, but continued to flit around, harassing the Ambipom, getting in the monkey's way.

"Ambipom! Use Agility again!" The Ambipom, which was extremely fast, somehow got a lot faster as it ran in more circles, almost a blur.

"Fury Swipes!" Before the Infernape, or Peter, could react, Ambipom had slashed Infernape three times with its vestigial but sharp nails, twice on the arm, and as Infernape turned to look and see what the source of its pain was, once on the cheek.

Peter grimaced slightly, and even though the Will-O-Wisp was trying to bother Ambipom as much as it could, it was rather ineffective.

The boy next to me looked far unhappier about the imminent defeat than Peter did. "I'll lose so much money!" He moaned.

The girl grinned evilly, making her look like some dominatrix porn star. I rolled my eyes.

"Bounce!" She called, and Ambipom somehow managed to jump to the high ceiling of the battle room. It must have been a hard attack to learn, because that the Ambipom appeared to defy gravity. When, however, it did begin to come back down, it grabbed on to a ceiling support beam, and grinned dangerously, clapping its tails together.

"Oh, great." The boy said, smacking his head loudly against his hands. "Now what? Ambipom can use…"

"Ambipom, Swift!" Ambipom let out a spray of stars, which changed direction as Infernape tried to dodge. They hit him and exploded like firecrackers.

"Swift can't miss, and Infernape won't be able to hit Ambipom very easily. This battle's over."

"Rock Smash, Infernape!" Two large stones which I hadn't noticed before were in each corner, and Infernape smashed them together, and the floor became strewn with sharp-edged pebbles. I saw what Peter was having Infernape do; if the Ambipom tried to come down, it couldn't use Agility and go fast; it would hurt itself on the rocks.

Ambipom released another Swift, which hit. Clearly, that girl trainer had used this strategy several times before with Ambipom: weaken the opponent, get out of the way so that few attacks can hit it, and then pummel the opponent with Swift until they crashed.

"Fighting types are resistant to a normal type, but eventually Infernape will faint. He's gotta try a long-range attack! It's hopeless." The boy said, barely looking at the scene before him.

"Infernape, uh…" even Peter was stalling.

Lavender just squealed, trying to look out through her fingers.

I yelled. "Flame Wheel, you idiot!" I just couldn't help it. It's not like Peter could hear me anyways, far away as he was. Infernape, though, turned towards me, its ears pricked in my direction, and it shot a Flame Wheel at the floor, which sent heat waves rising upwards. The Ambipom eventually began to feel them, and wiped a sweating tail hand to its brow. Heat rises upwards, so the heat was all going straight up towards the Ambipom. Just like putting your hand above a candle will burn it, so did the Ambipom feel the heat, and slowed down. Infernape, being a fire Pokemon, barely noticed the sweltering temperature.

Peter grinned. "Great job, Infernape!" He called, pleasantly surprised that his Pokemon had apparently attacked without his order. He wasn't extremely offended, so I assumed he didn't realize that I was the one who had commanded Infernape on that.

"Up the wall, if you can!" He added, his battler's block receding in the wake of renewed determination. Infernape rubbed its hands together, and quickly ran up the walls. While Ambipom was significantly faster, Infernape's form was more graceful. Infernape swung on his tail, and deftly arrived at the same ceiling beam as Ambipom. Ambipom swung its tails in front of it; Infernape still had to keep back.

"Infernape, why didn't I think of this before?! MACH PUNCH!"

With an astounding speed that Ambipom couldn't counter, Infernape dexterously leaped forward, and buried its fist into Ambipom's stomach.

"Ha! I forgot!" The boy said, grinning easily now. "Mach punch! It's a fighting attack always goes first, and now that Ambipom has nowhere to run, this will be an easy match!"

Ambipom made a valiant last attempt, trying to slap Infernape with its two tail-hands, but Infernape, with its superior balance, easily stayed aloft, and merely, in a lightning-fast movement, snatched the tails out of the air, and dropped the monkey down into the flame and rock-filled abyss. The girl returned Ambipom before it fell.


	9. Cruise: Accounting

A Journey

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: Long, but not as long as the behemoth chapters of yesteryear. Please give me your impressions of the characters, as they are the meat of the story. Thank you for your time.

…

I glowed with pride. So I didn't do much, just ordered someone else's powerful Pokemon to do one small command, but give me my moment of glory, no matter how small!

Maestro licked me on the cheek and chirped, and I laughed, coming back into the real life of things. The battle was… mesmerizing, to say the least. It was interesting, to try to see the strategies, and it was surprising, almost disgusting how interesting I found it.

I turned to Peter, who was accepting a congratulatory handshake from the girl, who said with a smirk,

"Good job. My name's Lauren, by the way. Room 2-11." She licked the top of her lips slightly, and I rolled my eyes.

I guess I thought that she was journeying to prove that really hot, sexy girls could be trainers as well. Maybe I was misreading things, but it looked like although she was a good trainer, her main purpose was seducing the hapless male teenaged majority of trainers.

She smirked at me, and then snaked an arm around Peter.

"So tell me," she said, "how _did _you win that match?"

While I was upset at this obvious attempt to steal Peter away, I could see that Lavender looked devastated. At this, I promptly decided that under no circumstances could Lauren become closely affiliated with our group.

I turned to Pichu, which by now had hopped off my shoulder, and was grooming itself with dignity, as though my shoulder was so dirty it needed to cleanse itself.

"What do you think of her, Pichu?" I asked.

Pichu shrugged, to indicate that it wouldn't agree with me in dislike of her, even if he disliked her.

I saw Lavender, who was bravely attempting not to cry in a way that made it plainly obvious to everyone there that she was about to cry. I inched closer to her, feeling distinctly guilty for no real reason.

"Peter likes you, Lavender, he's just trying to be nice to Lauren!" I explained, trying to cheer the intellectually challenged girl up.

"Yeah, she said, but I don't like the way Lauren's trying to be 'nice' to Peter." Sharp humor? From Lavender? Was I hallucinating? I laughed instantly, and then practically reeled when I realized whose joke I was laughing at.

The boy gambler with the Calcudex returned to the bleachers, avoiding Pichu, and he held up a fat wad of cash.

"Ha!" He said triumphantly, and then typed something into his Calcudex, and the money disappeared.

"So how'd you think my sister did?" He said mildly.

My head snapped around. "Your WHAT?"

"Haha, you know, you're pretty gullible!" He said with a laugh. I glared at him, my eyes narrowed.

"Haha, you know, you're pretty immature if that's what you consider to be funny!" I mocked with a laugh.

"So what's your name, anyways?" I asked, putting my feet up on the row of bleachers in front of me. Maestro jumped onto my lap from my shoulder with an 'oof.'

"The name's Brett Senegal. Yours?"

"An insignificant detail," I joked again, figuring that once I had a good line I should keep on using it.

"No it's not," he whined in his little kid voice. "If you're not telling me, it's because you're someone important! Tell me!"

"Alright, but promise you won't tell?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah, yeah," he said with a wave of his hand.

"I'm Ash's daughter."

He gasped. "REALLY?" He yelled more than said.

"Yes." I said quietly.

"Yeah, big whoop," he said, bored. I then realized that his last exclamation was sarcastic.

"Dawn's my mother. You know, the coordinator champion of Sinnoh?"

"Really? You don't look like her." I pointed out.

"I'm only related to Dad," he said somewhat defensively.

"Hey, that's okay, no need to get so defensive," I said quickly.

"Hey, my dad traveled with your mom!" I realized with a laugh.

"This is true," Brett said. "Yeah, mom kind of just wanted me to start on a journey. She thinks I'm becoming a League competitor. I'm going to Hoenn because that gambling isn't legal in Sinnoh gyms."

"Oh," I added with a sigh.

Lavender added in, "Aww, you're so adorable and little!"

He glared at her. No boy likes being called 'little.'

"Hey, do you want to come with us when we journey in Hoenn?" She asked. I rolled my eyes. Any kid that she met, would she invite them along too? And what was with the 'we?' It was kind of a rather unspoken agreement that 'we' were doing anything! We hadn't discussed it officially, she kind of just assumed it.

"Sure!" The kid said thoughtfully. "It'd be a good idea to attach myself to that trainer there," he said, pointing at Peter, who was engrossed in conversation with Lauren.

"Really? I think his strategy is somewhat lacking," I said conversationally. Having a little kid around might crimp our style, hard to say. It means we'd have to wait in tall grass to catch Pokemon, have to wait for him to get a starter, go to every damn gym he saw… Then again, if Peter was doing that already, would it be so terrible? Wait, one thing…

"You said that you don't want to train Pokemon, right?"

Brett nodded.

"Well, you could give me your starter Pokemon that the Professor gives you," I wheedled.

He stared at me, grinning. "Yeah, that'd work. Saves me the time it'd take to raise it. I'd want something in return though."

"I only have one thousand dollars now. How about an IOU? If I get a starter Pokemon, I'm sure I could win more battles…"

He nodded. "Sure, but you'd have to pay me back. Let's say, fifteen thousand dollars?"

"That should work," I said with a smile. I offered the boy my hand, and he shook it.

"So yeah, definitely come with us," I said with a smile. He grinned back.

"Do you battle?" He asked Lavender, staring at her calculatingly.

"I do contests!" She squeaked. "I'm not the best, but I do alright," she said with a cute modesty.

"I can bet on contests, but the stakes aren't as high."

"How high are the stakes?" I asked. I had never heard of Pokemon betting as a profession, but apparently it was.

"Like I said before. Offer up half the money you have on hand. If you lose, you gotta pay that much. If you win, you get that amount. I try to play it safe unless I'm a hundred percent positive; I put most of my money in my PC bank account, so I have less to lose if I make a bad decision. Betting is hard, because you have to judge how much the trainer knows as well as the Pokemon. I'm good at using the Calcudex, but not at judging the trainers." He concluded a little sadly.

"That sounds really interesting!" I said. I never knew money was to be made of off observing people and using a little Calcudex. "I could help you with the people part!" That's what appealed to me. Trying to figure out by what they wore, by the way they scanned the field, by what they said beforehand, their grasp on strategy.

"What do you think of Peter's strategy?" I asked in a somewhat lowered voice.

"I couldn't really tell _before_ the match. He turned out to know all of Infernape's moves well, but he stalls, and doesn't really think outside of the box. I couldn't tell that from just looking at him, though," he said disappointedly.

"What are the contest stakes?" Lavender asked with a frown, sounding surprisingly engaged.

"Only one-quarter of what you have. I'd have to check out a lot of money from my account to bet a good amount of money, and carrying it around is dangerous. At least if I was with you guys, I could feel a bit safer about it." He said with a grin.

"Where's Peter?" Lavender said suddenly, stiffening. She looked around, but he and Lauren were both gone. She let out a little gasp, and turned to me, her eyes brimming with tears and fears.

"Let's go," I said with a resigned sigh. "See you around, Brett."

"My room number is 2-28," he said quickly, eagerly.

We left, Maestro on my shoulder, Pichu at my right, Kricketune at my left, and Lavender jogging in front of me, looking frantic.

"Did you like to watch it?" I asked the musically inclined bug. He nodded.

"How about doing it yourself?" I asked. He shrugged, and made a gesture as if to say 'sort of.'

"Well, let me check," I said, pulling out the ever-handy Pokedex. Chopin knew Growl, Bide, and Fury Cutter. Not the best attack set, and I'd have to raise him four levels before he could learn even Leech Life, a weak attack that even the weakest cave Zubat knew at birth. Good thing I would be getting a Hoenn starter, no matter the shady means; I had actually been mistaken enough to think that Chopin could be my main battling Pokemon! I really needed strong Pokemon because of the wild Pokemon. I really didn't trust them; if even a highly domesticated Pokemon like Ash's Pikachu would have no qualms killing me, what about a wild, untrained Pokemon who didn't know me, let alone care about me? Also, if my dad's run-ins with Team Rocket are any indication, my world is badly policed and full of wack-jobs, which is a bad combination if you can't defend yourself.

I would, unfortunately, have to train Maestro and have him be ready to fight if necessary. Pichu, the most powerful Pokemon I possessed, I didn't even want to try and train. The idea of putting more thunder power in the paws of a trigger-happy electrocution junkie who would want nothing more than to shock my muscles into a burning, quivering pulp seemed foolhardy, to put it mildly.

Lavender continued her frenzied search, and finally found them by the prow of the ship. Lauren had her Ambipom out, and Peter had out his Infernape, and was talking to Lauren, gesticulating at her Ampipom. Infernape was staring somewhat fearfully at the water below, while Ambipom glowed at the praise. She was staring at him, interested, not being whorish, as though she was actually trying to learn from him. I was impressed.

"Peter!" Lavender called, and pulled him into a hug. "I was so worried! I didn't know where you were!" Peter rolled his eyes at her pronouncement.

"You're not my mom, you know." He said coldly, and turned back to Lauren and began chatting again. Another thing you shouldn't do with guys is make it seem as though they have to report their actions to you. Their manly pride or whatever will be offended.

I stared at Peter, wondering if he, rather than Lavender, was the clueless one. I liked Peter, Lavender liked, if not loved, Peter, and Lauren wanted to jump his bones. He did not notice anything but Pokemon. Then again, I imagine my dad was like that too. My mom had followed him around for years and he had not bothered to notice that she liked/loved him. He did notice eventually, obviously, or else I wouldn't be here, but he sure took his time.

Lavender pouted her lip, and her eyes filled with tears. She began to lightly run away. I shot Peter my nastiest glance, and Pichu electrocuted both of us before retreating with me, not going near Lavender.

"Look," I said to Lavender, after I had found her curled up on the loveseat in my room, hugging a pillow to her chest, "guys are assholes. Peter is better than some," I added, "but not by much. If he knew he was hurting your feelings, he would stop." I concluded with a shrug of my shoulders.

She didn't look so good.

"Lauren's prettier than me! There's nothing I can do!"

"Not true!" I said. "You're much prettier than her. She might have the sex appeal, but just think about the disgusting, huge, saggy boobs she'll have twenty years from now!" Lavender giggled, and I sighed.

"Look, you're a lot prettier than I'll ever be, and you're adorable. People will go out of their way to protect you, and I don't think I'll ever get that treatment. You have to give Peter time. You know guys have only a two track mind- sex and Pokemon. Try to get in on his Pokemon track, cuz that's obviously stronger for him. Invite him to watch your next contest!"

"That's a good idea!" She said happily. "Thanks for being such a good friend!" I smiled. In only two days, I had given her two pep talks. Not the best ratio. It gave me something to do, at least. I had been banned from the phones because of the Little Chu Wonder, I didn't battle, and the trainers were too advanced to find me good enough to talk to or whatever, and anyways, all they'd talk about would be Pokemon. I didn't think there was really room on the boat for hard-core training, and I had no mail service, so writing letters seemed pointless.

What did people do on three-week-long boat rides? Just hang out and talk?

Probably the Pokemaniacs would battle the day away, but not for me. I did, however, open my Pokedex while Lavender released Ecru the Feebas in the tub.

I registered some additional information about myself on the Pokedex, such as my hair color and eye color and such. I looked up the less-than-impressive attacks my Pokemon could learn. Chopin's moveset was basically hopeless for any real battling, and Maestro's moveset was actually less than completely dismal. For any real competitive battling, yes, it was completely dismal, but he would be able to fend off most weak wild Pokemon. And Pichu had possibilities if it could evolve. I knew how strong Ash's Pikachu was, and although Ash's Pikachu was special, so was this Pichu, according to both Peter and Brett, who had said its thundershock was twice as strong as it should be at this stage.

I sighed, and walked into the dining room with Maestro on my shoulder. Chopin had decided to stay back at the room with Lavender and Pichu. A lot of people had their Pokemon out with them, and I just watched. I watched for the ones that babied their Pokemon, I watched for the ones that treated them dismissively, and didn't even pretend to listen when they talked in their simple languages. I listened for the ones that actually carried on conversations, albeit rather one-sided ones, with their Pokemon, confiding in them, even if they didn't expect anything in return. I watched for the ones that actually laughed at something their Pokemon said. I turned my head in a wide circle to the right, and I met the incredibly piercing blue eyes of someone who was watching people just as I was.


	10. Cruise: Nightfalls

He stood there, his unblinking gaze not so much resting as tearing across mine

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: Things become complicated, time passes, and the mystery is introduced. Let me know if I fall to the dark depths of the abyss that is the cliché. (I'm too young to die.)

…

He stood there, his unblinking gaze not so much resting as tearing across mine.

He walked over to me, a taut smile drawn and quartered across his face.

"My name's Des I. Manifesto. It's a new moon tonight. What's yours?"

"An insig-" Before being allowed to utter my catchphrase, he interrupted me.

"Want to come back to my room?"

I nodded, and Maestro turned to stare at me apprehensively from my shoulder.

I walked with him, and smiled slightly at him, somewhat worried myself.

He stopped at room 1-31, and held the door open for me.

"Look, are you bored?" He asked abruptly

"Excuse me?" I asked, unsure of what he meant.

"I mean, do you want to do something or whatever?" He asked.

"Sure!" I said.

"Look, I have a flying Pokemon. Want to go for a ride?" He asked, blushing furiously.

"Sure!" I repeated, excited at the thought of getting out and doing something. I dropped my Pokeballs other than Maestro's in my room.

He led me to the deck, and as I followed with Maestro still on my shoulder, he took out a Pokeball, and called out an enormous Gyrados. It roared as it was let out, and Des climbed onto it right behind its head. I followed hesitantly, making sure Maestro didn't fall off.

We got on, and we started speeding off. Gyarados flew off, waving like a ribbon in the sky, undulating like a wave. It flew close to the water, skimming, and occasionally banking down into it.

"Faster!" Des called, and the Gyarados began to speed up, the waves lashing at us like whips now when we dipped down to low.

Des called "faster" twice more, until we were whipping through the air so hard it hurt. The wind snatched my words and I couldn't speak and I fought to breathe and my thoughts were muddled and it's so hard to keep holding on so let go and darkness.

"She's waking up!"

"TWIG!" It was Lavender.

"Lavender, where's Peter?" I asked. Shit, was that out loud?

"I think he's battling again, sorry," she said, sounding sad that I wanted to know where he was. Jealous that I asked about him first before I asked about her, or that I liked him?

"At least you don't have to worry about being bored for the rest of the trip!" Lavender said with a laugh. I opened my eyes, and I saw the concern, sadness, and fear on her features.

"What's the problem?" I asked.

"I've been worried about you! You've been gone and asleep for the past 18 days! How could I not worry?" She seemed a bit hysterical.

"Where was I?" Memory returned. "I fell off the Gyarados?"

"Yes you did." She said sadly. "Maestro swam back as fast as he could for help after dragging you to a piece of driftwood, but by the time he came back and the rescue crews returned, a Wailord had already picked you up.

"He thought you were a castaway from Sinnoh, so he brought you back there, risking beaching in the process. When he got to the beach, it was storming and no one was there, so he turned around. That was five days, because Wailord swim very slowly; he had his Wingull friends bring you some seaweed and they ate it, threw it up into a mush they could feed you while you were conked out, and swimming against the storm, the Wailord came back to where it had found you.

"By then, the boat and rescue crews were long gone, and the Wailord finally realized you must have come from the ship. It started swimming after it as fast as it could, but it wasn't fast enough, and a group of mean Sharpedo tried to attack it. It was saved, and it doesn't remember how, and then a Dragonite, who was given orders by someone whose identity she isn't allowed to reveal, to pick you up and take you here. You were probably awake after those first five days, but the Dragonite like accidentally flew a bit too roughly with you and you suffered a 'concussion' or something and some rescue Pokemon had to pick you up." Lavender said.

"The reason we know about the Wailord and the Dragonite is because that one of the Pokemon that was rescuing you was a Starmie, and it psychically asked the Dragonite." Lavender concluded with a giggle.

I was just sitting there in shock, taking it all in, taking in the surprising fact that Lavender could string that many words together. I looked at her skeptically.

"I've been practicing telling you coherently for like the past two days!" She said with a cute grin.

"I missed you, Lavender, even if I can't remember it," I said, and she blushed and gave me a hug.

"So why am I connected to the IVs?" I asked conversationally.

"Oh, those stringy things? I don't know, probably because all you ate was Wingull throw-up!" She smiled. "Eew!" She squealed cutely. Yup, that was the Lavender I knew.

"Do you know when I'll be able to leave?"

"Hopefully by tomorrow, because that's when we leave the boat!" She giggled.

"Tomorrow! Yeah, eighteen days, that'd be about right," I mused.

"So yeah! I'm just really glad you're feeling okay!" She closed her eyes and gave a cute smile.

"Can I see my Pokemon at least?" I asked her. "You can go get them."

"All of them?" She asked, her brow furrowed.

"Sure, why not."

It was a very dull twenty minutes before she came with all of them. She had had to drag Pichu along on a string, which probably accounted for the delay.

The struggling yellow rat glared at me, and sagged its shoulders slightly.

"Are you disappointed or something?" I asked with an almost laugh. "It'll take more than that to keep me down!" The Pichu growled as if to suggest that it knew exactly what WOULD keep me down, and I laughed.

I turned to Chopin, who warbled happily, and began to warble not a speech pattern, but a happy tune that lasted for three minutes.

"Did you just make that up on the spot?" I asked him, impressed. He nodded, and almost blushed a bit.

I turned to Maestro last. "You saved my life. I don't know if anyone would have noticed I was gone for a long time. Are _you _alright?" Maestro nodded and squeaked happily, hopping on the bed, grinding his teeth and rubbing his head up against my hands.

"What about the Wailord? Is it okay? It definitely deserves a reward!" I said, remembering what else had helped me.

"It's fine. The Dragonite said that whoever it was that gave her the orders also rewarded the Wailord."

"So we don't know who? I have to thank whoever it is."

"Well," said Lavender, her voice dropping to a gossipy whisper, "it was probably a Legendary Pokemon. Why else couldn't the Dragonite say who it was? It was probably either Lugia or Kyogre." She said in a hushed, awed tone. "You must be pretty special to get saved by them!" She giggled happily, and clapped her hands together in delight.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, worried slightly. Was it because I was me or because my dad had once saved both of them that they saved me? Probably the second thing, I thought with a scowl.

Concerned by my lapse into silence, Lavender retreated with a smile, with the hurried excuse that I needed rest. I grinned back at her weakly, and smiled, staring at the Pokemon that somehow were mine. I was alive…


	11. Cuise: Delicacy

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: Seven chapters to leave a transitory phase, that with a two week long coma; in other words, I'm not convinced I'm adding enough expository details to my story.

…

"You guys want to stay here with this old sick lady?"

Maestro, of course, nodded and snuggled up to me. Pichu yawned, shook its head, and left surprisingly peaceably. Probably just because the hospital staff wouldn't have liked it much if it had shocked me and ruined equipment a lot more expensive and life-saving than a phone. I paused for a while before asking Chopin to stay.

"Sorry, I would, but there's nowhere for me to sit." Chopin shrugged his baton-like arms.

"Oh come on, you can find somewhere to sit!" I said with a grin.

Chopin shook his head. "Not unless I sit on the IV machine." He snorted at this. "Something is telling me that wouldn't be beneficial to your recovery. Oh yeah, I think the speaker would be COMMON SENSE!"

"Shouldn't you not be talking?" I realized in a sudden flash of knowledge.

"Oh, I'm not," he said, and grew eight feet tall. I shut my eyes for a good long while…

Lick on the nose. Awake again? Were things back to normal? I opened my eyes. Yup.

"Morning, Maestro." I smiled at the cute little rat, and pet him.

"Chopin?" I said, staring at the musical bug. Chopin warbled with concern, and laid an arm on me. It was the first time he'd ever touched me, and it felt weird with his strange stick-like arms, more like rods than organs. I shuddered.

"You talked," I said with an unfocused grin. Chopin warbled a question tone.

"Yeah, you talked to me. I mean. I guess you always do, and you are even now, but you talked in English. I must have been out of it, huh?"

Chopin warbled an agreeing tone. I had to hand it to the guy. He went from being a wild Pokemon and soon learned human voice tones and what they meant. He knew that an upturn at the end of the sentence was a question, for example. In this way, I could understand him, and his voice conveyed a lot of emotion. Then again, Pichu could convey anger, and Maestro I understood well anyways.

"So what time is it now?" I asked, sitting up, edging my way to a semi-upright position.

"Oh yeah, forgot, you can't talk," I said wryly. Chopin nodded. Maestro just snuggled up to me, and I smiled at his warm fur.

"So what's Pichu doing?" I asked, holding a mental image of it terrorizing the employees, beating up weaker Pokemon or Brett.

"Oh, Brett! And," I said, staring at Chopin, "you still can't talk, can you?"

He shook his head and warbled an awkward laugh.

"Well, now what?" I asked myself with a sigh, realizing that this moment of loneliness was a metaphor for my whole trip. Stuck with a nice rat who I can cuddle but not exactly carry on philosophical conversations with, a bug who thinks he's the next Elvis, and a rabid light switch, I thought, repeating my epithet for Pichu from earlier. I'm alone now, and I have been alone this whole damn trip.

"Hey, are you all right?" Peter asked, walking in, shutting the door softly after him. He sat on the edge of my bed, looking at me with a concern I didn't think possible.

"Sorry I couldn't come see you earlier, but I came as soon as I heard you woke up. I'm so sorry about what happened," he said, his eyes looking down into mine.

"It's not your fault," I said quickly.

"I know," he said serenely, "but I just wanted you to have this," he said, and handed me a card. I opened it up, and there was a terribly-drawn Chansey with the note 'Get Well' in it.

"Thanks!" I said, flashing him a smile.

Peter nodded slowly. Did he like me or something? I hoped so! I gave him an enormous hug, accidentally-on-purpose crushing myself to him as I did so.

"You okay?" He said, looking at me worriedly. When I nodded, he relaxed slightly.

"So yeah, should I tell Brett you said thanks for the card?"

If I were a character in an anime, I would have 'sweat-dropped' or 'face-faulted,' but I wasn't, so I just kept my disappointment to myself. And Brett just gave me the card because he's a cute little kid, but it was still nice, I guessed, but it would've been nicer were Peter the giver.

"Yeah, that'd be nice, thanks!"

I suddenly remember what Lavender had said yesterday.

"We're leaving the boat today!" I yelled excitedly.

"Yeah, it should be at Hoenn by six tonight. It's now- damn! My battle starts in a few minutes! See you, bye!" He threw one last look at me before rushing out. I sighed dramatically, bored beyond belief, and still unaware of the time.

"Chopin, we're going to have a sing-along!" I decided at once.

Maestro stared at me apprehensively.

"What, you think if I sing that the boat'll sink or something?" I asked him, a goofy smile on my face. Maestro squeaked and nodded quickly, and I gave him a light swat across the ears.

Chopin, on the other hand, edged closer, and I said, with little preamble.

"You are an insect, but prepare to be introduced to the Beatles, the singing sensations of Earth." I began to sing "Hey Jude," and Chopin's eyes lit up, and he quickly repeated after me in warbles, line after line. He was a quick study, and could string the lines together with confidence after learning them only once.

After teaching him 'Here comes the Sun' and 'Strawberry Fields Forever,' I was interrupted by the boat captain, who had a Dragonair at his side, which cooed at Chopin, who blushed.

"I heard about what happened to you; are you feeling better now?"

"I feel fine. Where are the nurses, by the way?" I asked, furrowing my brow. "I haven't seen any since I got on here. The lack of a medical staff is kind of creepy," I explained conversationally.

The captain sighed. "We have a Chansey. That's all we need," he explained patiently.

"Anyways, I wanted to give you this," he said, and he handed me a bluish violet egg.

"Is this… A Pokemon egg?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes," he said with a nod. "I feel bad that you almost died on one of our cruises. Please take this for free, and _don't sue_," he said with an awkward smile. I laughed, mollified now that I understood his selfish reasons for gift-giving; it was less creepy that way.

He nodded at me and then walked out.

I handed it to Maestro, who sniffed it interestedly.

"So, whadaya think? I got three new Pokemon just from this cruise!" I said excitedly. "Well, two non-fetus Pokemon." I smiled at Maestro.

"This is crazy! Who knows how many Pokemon I'll end up with after this journey's over? Oh yeah, I'm getting a Hoenn starter too!" I was amazed by the amount of Pokemon I was getting so quickly.

Around ten minutes later, a Chansey came in.

It peeped a hello, and began pressing its ear against my chest. I laughed awkwardly, having never been examined by a Pokemon before.

She peeped something to Maestro, and shock her head, clucking her tongue.

"What's she saying?" I asked the Rattata, who rolled his eyes. I remembered that he couldn't talk.

She began to sing beautifully, and I got really really tired…

When I woke up, it was dusk, and a different Chansey was carefully detaching me from the I.V.s with Chopin's help.

"Thanks for everything," I said, and walked off extremely unsteadily. I looked back, and saw her shaking her head again, with a sigh.

I hadn't walked in a while, and I could feel it in my muscles, which must have, well whatever that word which starts with an 'A' meaning 'went kaput.' I carried my backpack, wearing my one (and only!) outfit on my back, and with my Pokemon and my egg. I couldn't call an egg into a Pokeball until it hatched, unfortunately, so I had to carry that around. It wasn't terribly big, and it didn't weigh more than five pounds, though, so that was alright, I just worried about it cracking and a fetal Pokemon spilling out. I carried Maestro on my shoulder, and Pichu, who threw a tantrum when I wanted to leave the ship, started shocking me, so I had to carry it with me as it struggled all the way.

I walked off with Lavender and Peter, noting the sign that said 'Dewford Town'. Lauren gave him a kiss on the cheek goodbye which ended in a slutty bit of a nibble, and Brett ran up to catch up with us. Hoenn, I thought; it was about damn time.


	12. Hoenn: Beginnings

A Journey

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: A slightly longer one here, although not as enormous as some others have been. This is filler content, but I hope it is intelligent filler content. Call me crazy, but carnivorous and herbivorous Pokemon shouldn't eat the same thing. Especially different types would have different nutritional needs (water Pokemon need more water than others, grass Pokemon couldn't have meat because the testosterone in meat would unbalance their phytoestrogens, psychic Pokemon would need omega-3s to help their neural pathways run, etc.)

…

"I'm traveling with you!" Brett told Peter, the only one who hadn't been informed of the situation yet. Peter grinned conceitedly, and gave Brett a noogie. Brett pouted.

"Don't worry, little guy, I'll teach you everything I know!" Peter, of course, couldn't even _comprehend _that a ten-year-old would do something with their life other than train. I had to respect Brett for not caving to pressure, truth be told, although he had the maturity of a little kid.

"I'm NOT a little kid!" Cue the whiny boy screams.

"Chill, chill," Peter said. "Do you know what starter you want?" Peter stared at Brett, awaiting an answer, as he looked at me desperately.

"Peter, why don't you advise him on which one is best," I said smoothly.

"Well, I'd pick Torchic," he said with a happy grin. "It's fire, which is awesome, and fighting. Literally will kick ass," he said, laughing at his own pun.

"Yeah! Pick a Torchic, it's so _cute!_" I'll let you guess who said that.

Brett just looked at me and shrugged.

"You have some time to decide," I pointed out to Brett, hoping he understood the underlying message 'I'll decide later.' Brett nodded, understanding, and changed the topic.

"So I can't wait to get started!" Lavender said. "Hoenn's got a contest in every major city and town. I hope they've got one here soon!"

"And there are plenty of gyms," Peter said, starting to get excited as well. "Dewford here has got a gym I think!"

"More opponents to beat into a pulp, huh?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, turning towards me. "Exactly." My heart skipped a beat.

"It's too late for us to go to Littleroot tonight, so why don't you room with me in the Center? I get a trainer's pass."

"Sure?" Brett suggested timidly. He threw me a glance. I grinned at him indulgently. I wish I could be the one rooming with Peter, so frankly I was less than sympathetic. Brett didn't like the arrangements? Tough.

"I didn't get a trainer's pass," I said. My dad had apparently forgotten this when he dumped me in the woods.

"Room with me, then," Lavender offered excitedly. "Just like on the boat! Like one big sleepover party!"

"Okay, Lavender," I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"But I'm hungry! Where do we eat?" Brett whined. I can't say I felt much differently.

"You can't just listen to your body, you have to let your mind-" Peter sternly began to lecture Brett, but then his stomach growled audibly.

"There's a soup place down the way! Tee hee hee!" Lavender laughed. "I love soup! It's so cute!"

"How is soup cute, honestly?" I asked. Lavender blushed.

"Umm, mildly disturbing," I said in response. Lavender probably thought that Charizard were cute. Of course, being from Sinnoh, she probably would mistake a Charizard for a rather large Salamance with indigestion.

"You girls are so weird," Peter said, shaking out that beautiful hair of his. "Soup is not adorable; you eat it."

I couldn't agree more, but why did he put me in a category with Lavender? Lavender gave a bad name to womankind. A cute, nauseatingly adorable name, but a bad name nonetheless.

"What do we feed our Pokemon? Can they even eat soup nicely?" I asked Peter.

"Maybe if they have breadsticks, we can feed them to the Pokemon?" Peter suggested, looking at me out from under his mussed hair.

"Eew, carbs!" Lavender said. So that's how she was so skinny? She was a serial dieter? Eww herself. I bet that she was so skinny naturally that she could eat anything she wanted and not gain an ounce. I thought of her scarfing down an entire pizza, and smiled to myself.

"Good point. Pokemon nutrition? Do they need certain kinds of foods?" I asked Peter. Peter wasn't the one who answered me, though.

"It depends on the Pokemon. People used to just give them Pokechow and Pokeblocks, like when our parents were our age," Brett said, sneaking a meaningful look at me on the words 'our parents.' "Now, people go natural with food. I mean, a fish Pokemon, a plant Pokemon, and a carnivore Pokemon can't eat the same things and be healthy for it!"

"But Pichu and Rattata both like fruit," I ventured.

"Pichu is a mouse Pokemon, and Rattata is a rat Pokemon. Very very similar. You're lucky. They're omnivorous."

"Chopin?"

"The bug?" Brett confirmed.

"Yeah."

"It can eat anything with a high starch content."

"He likes croutons."

"Ah."

"What?"

"You might want to limit that. Too many empty carbs. You might want to try him on brown rice. Lower glycemic index, you see."

"Speaking of index, why is the little trainer a friggin encyclopedia?" Peter cut in, clearly sore that Brett knew more than he did. Brett, unaware of the dangerous territory he was treading, asked,

"What do you feed your Pokemon? I can make recommendations!" He meant nothing by it, poor little guy.

"How about you stop criticizing me until you've proved your worth in a battle?" Peter snapped. Brett, about to apologize, saw his glare and said nothing.

"Look, we're here!" Lavender squealed excitedly with a clap, gesturing to a rickety shack called Bliss In a Bowl.

"I bet the health inspectors don't find it blissful," Peter remarked, yawning and stretching. How were his teeth so white if he lived in the wilderness. I really did have to ask him sometime…

Lavender pushed open the door and ran inside. The proprieter, a small, sad-looking man with a long red braid and only one arm, showed us inside to a table.

We ordered immediately (me, squash, Peter, beef bullion, Lavender, squash as well, most likely because she couldn't think of anything herself, and Brett, peanut butter chocolate desert soup).

I ordered blueberry raspberry swirl desert soup for Maestro, who licked me appreciatively, French onion croutons covered with Gruyere cheese for Chopin, and after Pichu blackened the menu to the crisp, it expressed an interest in squash soup, so I asked for my soup in two bowls.

In the meanwhile we just chatted. Not about anything particularly interesting or important, but just pleasantries. Until, of course, Peter decided to enlighten me on the ideal battle strategy.

"So you have a Pichu." He said. "You need to train it in Special attacks."

"It won't listen to me," I reminded him.

"Oh, really? Well, my Pokemon have _always _listened to me, so I can't help you there."

"You didn't have problems with Infernape ever?"

"Of course not? Why would I? Infernape loves to battle, I love to battle!" This was true. Never had I seen such a battle-happy trainer and such a battle-happy Pokemon; they were perfect for each other.

"Well," I prodded him, "any advice for dealing with Pichu?" I glanced over and found Pichu's seat empty.

"Did you see Pichu just leave?" I asked Maestro. Maestro shook his head.

"God, I could grow to be a hundred with that creature, and it would still hate me." I said with a sigh.

The back of my chair made some shredding noises, and I found myself shocked by the Pichu, firmly anchored to the chair with its claws.

"Just kidding. That furry little stealth bomb will kill me before I turn eighteen." I muttered darkly. Chopin crooned sympathetically.

Brett stretched comfortably and yawned. Peter, looking up, feeling a bit nicer, said, "You'd better get some sleep tonight! You have a big day ahead of you!"

"Yeah, how are we going to get to Littleroot?" I asked.

"We just have to cross the ocean, go through a tunnel, and walk a lot," Peter said.

"How did you know that?" Lavender said admiringly.

"I can't be like that Ash Ketchum; I'm going to research places before I go!" Peter isn't always impulsive and battle-happy? Peter totally just dissed my dad?

"Wow, you're smart!" Lavender giggled. Peter blushed a bit. Blushed? Honestly, is he a were-girl or something? Well, constant admiration from Stupid over there couldn't be helping his ego, I thought to myself.

"It's good that you know where we're going. I have no idea," Brett said, obviously relieved. Peter actually sat up a bit straighter. Having gotten his manly mojo back or whatever, all was well, basically. Well, I still had a beady-eyed Pichu glaring at me from across the table, but other than that, it was fine.

"Here are your soups!" The owner said, somehow balancing all of our soups on a tray on his one arm.

Lavender smiled, accepted her squash, and squeaked, "Thank you, sir!" Peter nodded sharply with a curt "Thanks," and Brett inconsiderately said nothing. I managed a weak smile, handed half of the soup in another bowl to Pichu, and inhaled the warm, rich, velvety broth.

"This is very good," I said in between mouthfuls. "You picked a very nice shack, Lavender," I said, amazed that she had such a nose for quality.

Lavender blushed, and Peter turned to her. "Yeah, thanks, this is awesome." Is it natural that just five words could leave my breath caught in my throat, clench my jaw, and narrow my eyes?

"I think we should stay in Dewford for a little while," I finally said, just to say something that might be as good as the appropriately named Bliss in a Bowl.

"Why would we do that?" Peter asked dismissively.

"You can battle, Lavender can do the Contest, and Brett can figure out what he wants to start with."

"And gamble! If you battle, Peter, I can make money!" Brett said with all his youthful aplomb.

"I would love to compete!" Lavender said, actually putting her hands up in that cheesy 'V for Victory' pose. I nearly gagged.

"Sure, why not?" Peter said casually.

"Cool, it's settled then," I said with a smile.

Presumably eager to get us out of the restaurant, the one-armed owner came over and stared at us pointedly, especially Lavender, to ate her soup agonizingly slowly. She'd delicately sip one spoonful, never letting her pinkie touch the spoon, and then would joke a bit, talk a bit, and spend a long time staring at Peter. The proprietor cleared his throat.

"We're closing soon. So what brings you here?"

"We're traveling." Peter said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. The proprietor rolled his eyes and frowned.

"Yes, but where from?"

"I'm from Sinnoh, Lavender's from Sinnoh, the kid is from Sinnoh, and…"

"…and I'm from Kanto!" I cut in quickly, before Peter realized that he did not, in fact, know my name. Honestly, that put him on the Lavender level. Didn't he realize that he wasn't calling me anything in his head when he thought about me? Did he think about me enough to realize it? My rather depressing train of thought was interrupted by Peter.

"You're from Kanto?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah," I said slowly, wondering if I said too much.

"What's it like?"

"Usually warm?" I ventured, not sure what he was looking for.

"The most primitive Pokemon came from Kanto! Even a lot of Sinnoh species are direct evolutions of Kanto Pokemon!"

"Primitive? Are you kidding me?" I asked, annoyed. Maestro looked up, his snout covered in purple desert soup, and gnashed his teeth.

"Yeah! It was the beginning of all life!" Peter said dreamily, track 2 of his two-track-mind lit up and in full fantasyland; Pokemon would be the only thing he'd think about for several hours afterwards, if I knew him at all.

"Kanto's a lovely place," the proprietor said. "You going back there?"

"Eventually. I loved traveling through Sinnoh," I lied, "but there's really no place like home. Sinnoh creatures are so bizarre…" I said this staring right at Peter.

"Would you like to tell that to INFERNAPE?" Peter asked, snickering at the suggestion.

"Done!" Lavender said, holding out her empty soup bowl as if she just won a prize and felt the need to display it to. The proprietor breathed an audible sigh of relief, and I signaled to Chopin and Maestro that we were leaving. Pichu, meanwhile, sprang onto the top of my head and dug its claws into my hair.

"Is this really necessary?" I asked through gritted teeth.

Lavender giggled. "It's just playing, try playing back!" I rolled my eyes at the idiocy of this.

"Will you try the gym tomorrow? I'll probably come watch you." I asked Peter, wincing at the pain. I tried to gauge if he looked happier at my second comment, but having my hair ripped out made it difficult to pay attention.

Brett reached up, and plucked Pichu off of my head. Pichu shrieked in anger, and shocked Brett, but Brett just held onto it tightly, shielding us from the shocks.

"How do you DO that?" Peter asked. Brett smiled happily, and repeated his spiel about his immunizations as an infant.

"That'll help you train," Peter said, smiling indulgently at Brett. Brett rolled his eyes at me, and I couldn't help but laugh.

Finally outside, Brett continued to hold Pichu, whose angry electric shocks sent flashes of light around the darkened streets. Maestro hopped from a bike rack up onto my shoulder, and we started walking to the Pokemon Center, following the well-lit signs.

"In response to your question, yes, I will try the gym leader," Peter said, remembering what I had asked him before the monster tried to pull off my hair.

"It's a fighting type gym," Brett offered hesitantly, still gripping the Pichu as hard as he could (his knuckles were going white around the edges.)

Peter, thankful for the information this time, nodded.

"That'll make Infernape's job a bit harder, but I'll figure out a strategy. I'm good at that." Peter proclaimed confidently.

Lavender was staring at a streetlamp pole, and she clapped her hands together.

"There's a contest tomorrow all day!" She beamed adorably at me.

"Do you want to watch me?" She asked, turning to me, her hands together.

"Sorry, I just said I'd watch Peter's match. You're going in the morning, right?" I directed to Peter, hoping that he would say 'yes.' I didn't really have any interest in watching.

"Yeah. Fire Pokemon are strongest in the morning." He said.

"Afterwards, I'll come and watch you, though," I said to her. She shrugged.

"Sure!" She said with a smile.

"What Pokemon are you going to use?"

"Ecru! I'm trying to evolve him for you, remember?" I nodded in response; a Milotic would be cool, but I would miss Chopin. Besides, I hadn't taught him the Beatle's country-inspired acoustic period.

"What other Pokemon do you have?" Brett said, looking at her, clearly trying to make that elusive, difficult judgment about how she battled.

Lavender laughed. It occurred to me that no, I actually didn't know. Did she even know?

Lavender looked around, distracted. "Do you hear something?" I wondered if she was jokingly pretending that she didn't hear Brett, until one moment later, I heard a rustle and a splash.


	13. Hoenn: Hook

A Journey

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

A/N: That entire part in the ocean was inspired by the song Lilium, so I apologize. This is important, however. If you have any idea what the mystery is, point it out.

…

An overweight thirty-five year old man emerged from the dike fifty feet to the right of the sidewalk, walking into the pooling lamplight. He carried a fishing rod with him. Brett did a double take; he clearly was scared of what came out of the dark.

"Hi! I was doing some moonlight fishing. And how are you travelers on this fine day?"

"It's nighttime, not day!" Lavender said, looking, I swear to God, a bit confused.

The man, assuming she was trying to be funny, laughed.

"I like your style," he said to her.

"What's _your_ style? What are you fishing?" Lavender asked with a furrow of her brow.

"I'm fishing for Tentacool." He said. "They love new moons like these. The moonlight makes it harder for them to communicate by flashing."

"How do you fish?" I asked. If it actually buried a hook in a Pokemon's throat, I figured it was extremely rude, and I don't know how Pokemon would befriend their masters after that.

"Simple. Attach adhesive-coated bait to the line, let it go." He spoke in bursts. "If you get a bite, you reel it in very quickly, while its mouth is still stuck on, fight it, and hopefully put it in a Pokeball. Tentacool are very hard to catch. I've been fishing eight years and I've caught only one. Probably because that they don't usually latch on, and they weigh a hundred pounds, I guess. I have a reinforced super rod, but I still have to be careful about breaking it."

"Can I try?" Lavender asked, cutely smiling.

"Sure," the man said. I have no idea why he'd indulge her. If he valued his net or his sanity, that is. She would probably try to catch a surfer, or accidentally reel in another human being, the way my mom met my dad.

After she struggled with the bait, the man smiled and attached it for her. She stood in front of the sea, and we walked towards her.

A moment passed, and she began to frown.

"Am I doing something wrong?" She asked in her I'm-a-little-baby-Lavender-don't-hurt-me voice.

"It's very difficult to get it on the first try. Just stand and wait a little. I have all night!" The man said cheerfully.

"Lavender, we need to get back to the Center. It closes its doors at midnight," Peter said tersely.

"Could you wait in the lobby for me? I really want to try it. Please?" Lavender squeaked, still frowning, staring into the water.

I stared at Brett, who actually was almost asleep, seated and leaning against the lamppost. Pichu no longer shocked Brett, most likely out of juice, but still struggling to get out of Brett's grip.

"Take the kid, will you?" I asked Peter. "I'll stay." Watching the dark waves crashing was oddly calming, and the sea breeze made my skin tingle, made me feel alive.

"I'm not a kid," was Brett's sleepy response, sounding like an eight-year old.

Lavender shivered from the breeze, and the man handed her his overcoat.

"You remind me a little of my daughter," the man said, turning to Lavender. Of course Lavender gets all the friends and luck, I thought a bit bitterly; she is so petite and cute; you would be nuts to not want to protect her. I wished I had an overcoat to give her. Her arm finally jerked, and her eyes, unreadable in the lamplight, snapped to dilated excitement.

She tugged with all of her strength, and an orange mass attached to the rod shot out of the water like a bullet, landing on the sand.

The man inspected the Pokemon, one I readily recognized as a Magikarp. What I didn't recognize, though, was its brilliant orange-gold color. It had a growing bruise from its hard landing, so he captured it without even having to weaken it.

"A shiny Magikarp! What're the chances of that!" He caught Lavender up in a fierce hug. Even then, I felt the jealousy in me flare up like burning embers. Why did she have such good luck, why'd she have it so easy?

"Here, take this!" He said, beaming, shoving the rod into her hands. "You've earned it! I can get a new one any day, but Goldy here is rarer than rare. The luck of the sea has shone on you today; you were meant to fish." He said, caught up in himself. "The very first time I fished, I caught a Tentacool. Very first time my daughter Maria fished, it was a fully grown Whiscash!" He smiled at her.

"Tonight. It's not today, it's tonight," Lavender said with a smile and a giggle.

"Good luck on your journey! I need to go home and give Goldy to Maria!" The man actually leaped for joy, then began to rush off in the opposite direction.

Lavender turned to me, squealed, and gave me a hug.

"Careful of the egg!" I scolded, readjusting my backpack with its fetal cargo inside. More than that, I didn't want to touch her; the jealousy burned.

"I got a fishing rod!" She said excitedly, in the exact intonation as the "I got a Kricketune!" of just a few weeks earlier. She was so much of the same things. Not only was she stupid, she was repetitive, and yet, _the world shone on her_.

She gave me an odd look at my lack of response, and I managed a weak smile.

"C'mon, let's go," I said to Chopin, who shook his head. He looked across the sea, and warbled a minor key, bittersweet tune.

"Do you ever miss Sinnoh?" I asked. Chopin shrugged. He gestured to me with one of his conductor arms.

"I'm glad you like me, Chopin, but we won't be together forever." I said. "Remember? I promised Lavender I'd give you back when she evolved the fish." Chopin nodded. He seemed a bit preoccupied. Maestro sat down when I did, and heaved a rodent sigh. I stroked his ears.

"It's so pretty out here," Lavender said quietly. I had forgotten she was there.

"Yeah."

"I love the ocean. It's so pretty and big and mysterious," she said even quieter, rubbing her fingers together. How cliché. She probably just loved the beach and getting a tan.

"Someday," she continued, "I want to spend a whole night by the sea." I looked at her. She probably also wanted a brain someday, but it was a nice thought.

"I'd totally join you," I said. "But not tonight. We should be getting back. Besides, I left Pichu with Brett and Peter. That's not fair to either of them," I said with a smile, watching a wave crash over the same rock over and over.

"Why not? It'd be like a sleepover party!" This was apparently her catchphrase. The tune Chopin was creating was rising and falling like the sea, happy and sad. It belonged in a music box, where I could open it again and again and hear it. This entire scene did. Without Pichu, I had a bug with the soul of a poet, and a rat I could call my friend. Without Peter or Brett, I had only one human mind; Lavender counted as a child, or an intelligent Pokemon maybe, I thought, feeling terrible as I thought it, but it seemed so true to me.

"Life isn't always a sleepover party," I said a bit louder than I needed to. "Come on. Let's go."

Checking a clock in a shop window after walking back from the shore, over the dike, and onto the street, I saw that it was 11:40. Lavender followed behind me, until I realized that I didn't know where I was going.

"Crap," I cursed to myself.

"Where?" Lavender innocently asked, her sweet, wide eyes blinking more than they needed to.

"In general, Lavender," I said, the irritation in me flaring up like hot coals. So much for the ocean tranquility, I thought. Back to normal again, I realized, and I sighed.

"Do you know how to get to the Pokemon Center?" I asked, not able to spot the sign anymore. "I'm fresh off the boat." I didn't smile at my own little boat.

I could wake up the old man sleeping under the bench by the sycamore tree, but I hoped it wouldn't need to come to that.

Maestro began sniffing the ground, and gestured to me with his head. He began to head right.

"You can sniff out Peter?" I asked him. Maestro nodded, and continued walking. And who said a Rattata wasn't useful? Maestro was a bit sharper than other Pokemon; he was fluent in English, and had problem-solving skills. Chopin was extremely complex for a Pokemon too, though, especially for a bug. He felt complex emotions, like apprehension. Wasn't I lucky to be able to meet them?

"Here it is!" Lavender said after walking. We rushed into the Pokemon Center. It was new, and had a glass ceiling through which we saw the clouds. The lobby was full of armchairs, and a single TV screen on mute played an old, grainy advertisement for rare candies.

"The last room just got taken," the red-haired Joy said a bit reproachfully. She had a trinket bracelet with a Pikachu on it.

Lavender smiled at the Joy. "I like your bracelet! She has a Pichu!" She said excitedly, pointing to me, her usual enthusiasm returned to her.

"I love Pikachu. They power our machines," she said by way of explanation. "We're always looking for more Pikachu." My ears metaphorically snapped up at that comment.

"What about Pichu?"

Joy frowned. "We're not a Pokemon shelter," she said haughtily. "But if you evolve it, we'll accept it for a fee."

"OK," I said, disappointed. Would that monster ever like me enough to refrain from shocking me, let alone evolve for me? "Could you give them a checkup?" I asked, referring to Maestro and Chopin. Joy nodded, and a Chansey escorted both of them back to an examination room at the end of the hallway.

"Where do we stay if the last room's taken? We don't have money for a hotel," I said.

"There aren't any hotels in Dewport, so I'll let you stay in the lobby for tonight, but I'm alerting all other Centers. Don't come late again."

"Thanks," I said, relieved. My enormous day began to catch up to me. In the course of one day, I awoke from a coma, got an egg, arrived on a new continent, saw the ocean, and ate some damn good soup.


	14. Hoenn: New Morning

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

Joy rummaged under her desk, and produced two pillows and two small, folded fleece blankets.

"Thank you so much!" Lavender said excitedly. "There's only one sofa," she said with a frown.

"I'll take the armchair," I said quickly. "You take the couch."

"You sure? I'm sure we could share!" She asked cutely, sounding for all the world like a kindergartener.

"Nah, it's fine," I said. I couldn't give her an overcoat, but I could make things easy for her. She took off her overcoat, and ran to the bathroom to go change. I my sleeping bag out of my backpack, and turned to Chopin.

"Where are you going to go sleep?" He warbled a questioning tune.

"Maestro, sleep with me, kay?" I confirmed. Maestro nodded, and I cuddled his purple, furry body closer to mine. I rubbed his cream colored stomach.

"I wish I had a cute Pokemon to snuggle with!" Lavender exclaimed. She stretched in her child-like pajama set (frilly lavender tank top, flannel lavender and pink plaid pajama pants, etc.), showing off her nonexistent stomach.

"I wish Peter were here," I thought I heard her murmur, and she curled up in the blanket, put the pillow under her head, and went to sleep.

In less than five minutes, her breathing was steady, and I walked over quietly, looking at her pin-straight lavender hair. She looked sweeter than ever when she slept, curled up into a little ball. All I could think about was how Lavender didn't even have a cute Pokemon to cuddle with. I decided to catch her one. I would give her Pichu, but Pichu hated her, and that would be cruel to Lavender. I mean, Pichu nearly hated her more than it hated me! Obviously, this was saying something.

I was so happy that Brett was along with us, I thought, thinking of his ability to block Pichu's shocks. Little he might be, but his ability to block Pokemon attacks made him nearly superhuman. He would be such a good trainer; Pokemon could attack him as much as they wanted, but he wouldn't budge. And yet, like me, he had no interest in training. He didn't care about the glamour, the excitement, or the beauty of battling; cold hard cash and the potential resources it represented was to him what fame was to others. At any rate, superhuman or tortured baby, I don't care, because he watches Pichu for me.

I settled onto my armchair, reclining it a bit, and climbed into my sleeping bag. "Come on in, Maestro," I said, holding it open, and he dived in. Maybe during the hottest parts of summer, this wouldn't be so good, but for right now it was perfect.

I awoke with my hair messed up beyond belief. I got up, and half of it was plastered to my face, the other half repelled from it like two congruent magnetic poles.

"Just great," I muttered, mouth crusty and dry. I coughed out a few short purple hairs, and saw a drool patch on Maestro's back. I woke him up by giving his ears a rough, affectionate scratch.

"I drool, sorry," I said, rubbing the wet patch on his back. Maestro stuck out his toungue, ground his teeth, and with a squeak, flipped on his back, his creamy white belly exposed. His limbs twitched twice, but then fell still.

"Death by drool disgust at dawn," I quipped, and tickled Maestro's belly. His paws seized my hand, and he made fake growling sounds.

I sat up, laughing to myself, and looked towards the couch. Lavender was already up and gone, her blanket folded neatly in the corner of the sofa, a note on top saying "Thank you!" with a smiley face on it. I assumed she was talking to Nurse Joy, and grinned at that. Awww. She was so cute, even if she bothered me at me some times, possibly all times.

Chopin, meanwhile, was in the washroom across the hall, and was trying to turn the faucet on.

"Why do you need to wash yourself? You have an exoskeleton!" I pointed out. He shrugged, and warbled a strange sound.

"Yeah, I know, you can't talk…" I said, staring at the super intelligent bug. I turned it on, and he picked up a towel, put it in the water, and awkwardly dabbed it around his body. Given that he had no hands or fingers, it was like doing all of this with chopsticks. Had he practiced? That was the only way I could think he would be that good.

I shrugged and left the washroom, snuggling into my sleeping bag and changing into a new pair of undergarments, wondering how my only outfit never got sweaty or dirty. Clearly, 4Trainers knew their stuff, and their stuff was practical, stain and water repellent.  
I smiled at Nurse Joy, and told her that I had a nice sleep. She smiled back, in a tired, confused sort of way, until I realized I was talking to a different person. Good to know they have multiple Joys for the night shift, I thought to myself.

I waited on the couch, not sure what for. Couldn't I just go for a walk? Negative, I remembered, I didn't have the monster. Leaving Pichu with Brett for that long was cruel.

Speaking of things I needed before I left, Lavender popped through the main door, a lavender sweatband adorning her glistening forehead.

"Good morning!" She said, as she did on the boat, and I realized that we had a basic template that would guide us.

"Are Peter and Brett awake?" I asked, wondering jealously if she had visited Peter's room.

"I don't know! I was just on a run. You should try it sometime!" She giggled.

"OK, keep on running; I'll go find Peter and Brett." I said with a smile to myself. Would she take the bait and leave me alone with Peter and Brett?

"I'll come too! I need to ask Peter about what I should wear?" She said with a cute smile. Did she know I was trying to take Peter? Was she pretending to be this dumb?

"You could ask me," I responded, a bit offended, "I probably have a better fashion sense than Peter!"

"You only wear one outfit! You act like a boy," Lavender added, softer.

"I do?" I asked, too surprised to be mad.

"A bit, sometimes. In a good way," she hurriedly added, smiling as bright as she could. "You're strong, and you aren't afraid a lot." She said very quietly.

"Afraid? Are you afraid a lot, Lavender?" I asked equally quietly.

"Sometimes," Lavender said. "I'm afraid I'll do badly on a contest, afraid my Pokemon won't like me, afraid Peter won't like me…" She trailed off, struggling to think to herself.

"Well, don't be. You have us, and you have your Pokemon, and I'm sure you're great at contests." She beamed, and gave me another one of her cute-crushing Lavender hugs.

"Are you a _lesbian_?" Brett asked me from the stairs, looking at our hugging display. I saw the Day Shift Nurse Joy flinch awake at that word, broken from her silent reverie.

"What?" I asked, staring at the kid.

"I know what that word means, you know, I'm not a little kid," he said defensively. "I learned it from Peter!"

I stared at Peter, eyebrow quirked as far as it would go. He shrugged a bit, but I saw his dark cheeks flanged with a bit of red.

"I'm not a lesbian! Eww!" Lavender offered, blushing scarlet. "I definitely like boys!" She giggled, and under her lashes I saw her look clearly at Peter. Way to be subtle, I thought at Lavender.

"I'm going to my gym battle. Care to join me?" He asked, looking at both of us.

"I would love to, but I have my contest battle!" Lavender said, sounding enthusiastic and just a little bit sad at the same time.

"I already said I'd watch it with you, remember?" I asked, a bit irked that he would forget from yesterday.

"Me too! I'm betting!" Brett said excitedly, pulling out his Calcudex. From his oversized pockets, a yellow electric shock coursed through the Calcudex and Brett, although he stood his ground.

"What did I tell you about messing with the merchandise?" Brett muttered darkly. "Please take it back," he said, and I grudgingly accepted my Pichu, who, clearly distraught from its time away from its loving owner, shocked me harder than usual.

"Oww!" I exclaimed. "We're watching another of Peter's battles. Doesn't that sound like a blast?" I said this half sarcastically, but hoped Pichu enjoyed battles enough to be nice about it. Pichu shocked me lighter than usual, and it almost looked happy.

"Look at the time! Time to go!" Lavender picked up a cute lavender purse I hadn't noticed her carrying before, and ran to go change. She came out in a sparkling lavender dress that, of course, matched her hair perfectly. She had exchanged the usual chic lavender beret for a bun with two lavender roses stuck through it.

"Bye, good luck," I said belatedly after she dashed out.

"I hope she does well," Peter said. "I know I will!" He smiled and brushed dust off of his khakis.

"I hope so too!" Brett said, the proverbial dollar signs all but appearing in place of his eyes.

"C'mon Maestro, Chopin!" I said, and Maestro went from his spot on the floor next to Pichu onto my shoulder, and Chopin walked right up alongside me.

"If you don't behave, I will recall you!" I said to Pichu, who crossed its little arms and 'humphed.'

We walked outside, and quickly found the gym. Peter knocked on the door, and a prelim answered it.


	15. Hoenn: Brawly

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

"If you want to fight Brawly, you'll have to get through me!" It was a girl of around nineteen, who looked at us with that confidence everyone in their later teens seems to have in droves.

"One on one?" Peter declared.

"I'm supposed to declare the terms here," she growled.

"Declare them then," Peter said, looking bored. I admired his nonchalant attitude.

"One on one battle," the girl grudgingly said, before exclaiming,

"Go, Meditite!" sending out a Pokemon that looked like a cross between a yoga instructor and a bulb of garlic.

"The challenged player is supposed to send out the Pokemon first, league rules." Peter said snootily, and out of the darkness behind them came a thin, leanly muscled man with a shock of vivid, long teal hair pulled back into a practical ponytail. His facial hair was black.

"Kid's right."

"Oops! I just get all overenthusiastic," she said, looking embarrassed in the dim light.

"No big. Just wait for the next _wave_ of trainers. What are you going to do?"

"_Ride it_!" She answered, sounding tired.

"Sick of my surfer jokes? Just _hang ten_ more minutes, and you're on break." She groaned and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

"I'm Brawly, and I'm the gym leader." The man said, shaking Peter's hand with a firm grip.

"I'm Peter," Peter said proudly.

"It's nice to meet you, Peter." Thankfully, he didn't ask for Brett or my names; that would have been awkward.

"One on one battle then, that's your style? Sounds good to me. You pick first, obviously." He switched on a light, and led them down three hallways to a large rock-strewn arena.

"Fighting types are awesome. They're just strength and power waiting to be channeled, and it's all about technique, not just attacks. With the right training in fighting attacks and working out, a level 45 Mankey can beat any top-leveled Machamp. In that way, they're a lot like people."

"Yeah, I know," Peter said smugly, calling out his Infernape soundlessly.

"C'mon, dude!" was all Brawly said, before a very familiar Machoke emerged. It was nice to see Pokemon from my homeland, no matter how aggressive.

"Wow," Brett said silently as we eased ourselves onto the gleaming metal bleachers.

The Machoke really was something to look at. It had enormous pectoral muscles, and bulging biceps so big that each was bigger than Pichu! Its triceps were nothing to scoff at either, though, and the muscled thighs looked like something out of a superhero comic. Even the hands were laced with muscle, the thumbs looking particularly impressive.

In comparison, Infernape had far less external muscle, even when it had bulked up last battle, but looked lithe, graceful, and acrobatic. Machoke stood tall and proud, his arms in a boxers' stance, whereas Infernape was slung low, prepared to leap, perhaps.

"Tell me the stats," I hissed to Brett. Brett took out the Calcudex, reading it incredibly quickly.

"Infernape's stats are all higher, but Machoke is higher leveled, knows better attacks and, oh wow…" He trailed off, gazing stupidly at the Dex.

"What?"

"Its ability…No Guard. It means that all moves will be a hundred percent accurate, just like Swift. Infernape could still dodge, but what it means is that Machoke won't ever misfire. Of course, Infernape might be less likely to misfire as well. Wow. I'll still bet Peter, though. I'm hoping the stats will trump the attacks." He pressed a button, and looked up at the battle.

Pichu hopped onto my shoulder again, and I sighed momentarily with relief at the temporary truce which battling had become.

"Go!" The referee shouted, and Brawly called, "Focus energy!"

Meanwhile, Peter, remembering last battle, yelled "Mach punch!" And as Machoke stood there in a fighter's stance, listening to his breathing, Infernape slammed his fist into Machoke's left pectoral.

Maestro cheeped in sympathy for the pained Machoke, who shot his leg out into a low kick, one which Infernape easily dodged by leaping into the air, curling up into a ball, and rolling to diminish his impact upon landing.

The fire on Infernape's head burned brighter, and Infernape hopped onto the tallest rock on the side of the arena while still being in the arena in terms of rules.

"Bulk up!" Peter called, and Infernape began flexing his muscles. Machoke used the downtime to flash a downright creepy face at Infernape. Infernape froze, and he then moved slower, so I figured that this was probably an attack Machoke was trained to use.

Peter stared ahead, biting his lip. "Taunt!" Infernape stared at him, and then began to speak in Pokemon, grunting, and pretending to be the Machoke, imitating a gross facsimile of the face Machoke made which slowed Infernape down.

Machoke growled angrily, as Infernape hopped off of the rock to meet his adversary, his muscles now bulging, although he went a bit slower.

They circled each other, and Brawly yelled, "Karate chop!" Machoke made a quick move forward, and, before Infernape could react, hit him across the tail.

"Machoke, Dynamicpunch!" Brawly called, and Brett cursed to himself. Machoke punched Infernape, and as he did, a small orange glow emitted from his fist.

Infernape began to stumble around drunkenly, his eyes almost completely dilating, reeling back from the blow, which clearly was very painful and damaging. He growled at the wall, looking very angry at the rock.

"He's confused," Brett said by way of explanation, throwing me a glance. "That move normally only has a fifty percent chance of succeeding. With Machoke's ability, though…"

"Infernape, fury swipes!" Infernape stared at Peter, lumbered towards its owner, and Infernape started clawing his own face. It disturbed me to see the expression of hatred on his face, directed back to himself again. I shuddered.

"I never should have bet…" Brett wailed.

"Why do people battle and let their Pokemon get all psychotic?" I wondered. It must be hurting Peter. For me to see Maestro go insane… that would be hell.

Infernape staggered around more, and finally clung to the underside of the bleachers, where his deep, low cries of pain sounded like a funeral dirge echoing all around us.

"Infernape, Will-O-Wisp!" Peter called, staring plaintively. Infernape must have breathed one out as commanded this time, because that I could see a glow through the slots under my feet. The Will-o-Wisp found its own way to Machoke, making sure to sting it right on his left hand.

"Good job! I knew you could do it!" Peter said, and Infernape leaped out of the bleachers. He was still confused, but he had a purpose; to win. Besides, fighting Pokemon didn't appear to have a lot of intelligence to lose, although Infernape did seem sharper than the Machoke by far.

"Ring of fire, Infernape!" Peter called right as Brawly yelled "Finish it Machoke, Cross Chop!" Infernape accidentally, of course, blew a ring of fire around itself, but just as Machoke was diving towards Infernape fists out, Infernape backflipped out of the ring, and Machoke was trapped, and his burn was angry and red, throbbing in the heat.

"Infernape, Bulk up and Calm Mind!" Peter called, using the opportunity while Machoke was trapped to raise his stats. Even more, Infernape bulked up his muscles, and then, hopping onto a far-off rock first, began to meditate in the lotus position, making hand symbols with his long, dexterous hands as he did so.

"Infernape, flare blitz!" Peter yelled. Brett winced, and gripped the edge of his seat, his knuckles white as mayonnaise.

Infernape from his mouth and tail summoned a wrathful storm of fire, spraying a wide bunch of it. The fire was all white, and was extremely hot, and only a second after it hit Machoke, who crumpled to the ground immediately, Brawly recalled Machoke, the Pokeball which bounced back to him semi-melted and distorted in shape.

"Nice Infernape you've got there," Brawly commented casually. "I've never fought against one before. It's got a nice set of attacks. But let me give you this advice; try teaching it martial arts, maybe send it to a dojo for a couple of months, to hone its fighting side. Being so flexible and acrobatic, he would be great at wushu. Machoke here's a more standard karate fighter. So, I have a proposition for you," Brawly continued, eyeing Peter as a prospect, "how about trading your Infernape for my Machoke?"

Peter was about to comment, but Brawly kept talking right through it. "Just hear me out, okay? If Machoke is traded, he will evolve into a Machamp. This would just be for a couple of months; we'll trade back, and I'll get a Machamp, and you'll get a much stronger Infernape then you've ever had! You know, learning to command different Pokemon is a key to becoming a master." He added glibly, guessing accurately that Mastery was Peter's goal.

"No way," Peter said, clenching his jaw. "I can train him just fine. Keep your wushu or whatever you call it."

"Fine by me," Brawly said, although his down-slanting eyebrows indicated that this was not the case. "But you're really missing out. Here's your badge." Brawly all but threw the sewn badge into Peter's outstretched hand.

"By the way, you only won by luck. Don't believe that it was your skill which let Infernape burn Machoke while confused."

"I never said anything of the sort," Peter said icily.

"Just remember, a conceited trainer is a hungry trainer." Brawly now practically launched a few bills at Peter. I didn't really understand the strange masculine power play that was going on in front of me, and I doubted I ever would. Peter smiled uneasily, and walked outside, with me and my Pokemon in tow.

Brett came back a minute later, holding a fistful of money, which he used his Calcudex to transport away.

"Well, looks as though we've won again, Peter," Brett said happily. Peter smiled.

"I knew I would," he said confidently, but his eyes seemed to waver.

"I'm going to go watch Lavender!" Brett said, and he walked towards the concert hall, following a gaggle of contest girls headed for the same place.

"You up for lunch?" Peter asked me.

"Sure!" I said, far preferring lunch- alone!- with Peter to any alternative insipid contest viewing. It was good to stretch my legs anyways. Pichu didn't shock me, but sat still on my shoulder. This was a weird day indeed.

"You okay?" I asked, once we slid into a pasta buffet and had filled our respective bowls that looked large enough to be small tubs with steaming pasta.

"It was just creepy, seeing Infernape like that." He said slowly, and I couldn't have agreed more. Infernape was a titan, a Colussus, and even in his fight with Ambipom, he still looked so much more majestic and capable. Here, though, to see him become insane was crazy, excuse the pun.

"Yeah. That's the main reason I don't want to battle. Maestro's like my hairy, rodent-faced brother." I said, this part playfully poking Maestro's head. He snapped at my finger jokingly, and then shook his fur out. "I couldn't stand to see him, all sanity gone with a single attack." The image of Infernape clawing at his face, trying to tear off the layers of his very own skin, that was burned into my brain as though attached by a smoldering Will-o-Wisp.

"Yeah. And Infernape; I've been with him for three years now. That's three thirteenths of my life I see stumbling around." Peter said. "And I wouldn't give him up. Even though I know Brawly would make him stronger and a better fighter. I don't want him to leave me." His expression was dark as he said this.

"Yeah," I repeated quietly to myself. How did my dad have over thirty Pokemon in his lifetime, and be attached to all of them? While I know that to him Pikachu was special, much like Maestro, he had a friendship with all of them. I thought of Chopin trying to pierce his exoskeleton with his own arms, or singing off key, two things that were practically inconceivable. Chopin was so smart, so nice, so perplexed, such a fast learner, so curious, and of course, so ardently in love with music. Who was I to subject him to danger of any kind?


	16. Hoenn: Confusion

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

Then I thought about Pichu, sitting still on my shoulder, looking withdrawn, and quite tiny.

"Pichu, you okay?" I asked it. It shocked me, but its heart wasn't in it. I was amazed I could tell by the pain of an electric shock how Pichu was feeling.

"Did you like watching Infernape's first battle?" It nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"The second one?" Pichu shook its head no.

"Was it because of what happened to Infernape?" A tiny vertical movement of Pichu's wide, domed head, small enough to just be a slight movement in the breeze, but I knew better.

It bit its lip, and its eyes began to tear up. My tiny archnemisis, the cute yellow terror, my 'rabid light switch,' whether I liked it or not ('not!' my brain was quick to answer), was my first ever Pokemon. More importantly, it was just a baby. I guess I never really thought of it as an infant, as from the start it had all the demands for independence of a hormone-crazed teenager, and all the reasoning skills of a toddler, straddling the worst of two worlds. And yet, this Pichu, who could possibly have been as young as five weeks old, had seen the strongest Pokemon it knew attempt to destroy itself in a storm of insanity. It had seen the Pokemon it presumably looked up to the most, crazy and in a position of weakness. It had seen firsthand the brutality that made me hate Pokemon battling.

"Were you scared by what you saw?" Pichu shook its head.

Maybe what it _didn't_ see, then, I realized. Not only had its role model tried to destroy itself, but no one cared. As a baby Pokemon, even one trained by someone who hates and fears them, it understood that people took care of Pokemon just as much as Pokemon took care of people. Even if it offered no gratitude on that first day of meeting me in the Sinnoh forest, it still probably noticed that even after shocking me to the point of temporary immobility, I still climbed a tree and gave it an apple to eat when it was hungry. And yet, Peter's beloved Pokemon he talked and bragged about, was suffering and confused out on that hard, rocky battle floor, and neither Peter, Brawly, nor the referee did anything but watch, because it was just 'part of the game'. Peter even ordered it to attack. The world doesn't care, the moral sneered at tiny yellow ears; you are just a cog. You are merchandise that breaks, not a living creature decaying into painful insanity.

"Were you scared by what didn't happen?" On the word scared, it shook its head, but nodded afterwards.

"Angry?" I asked, knowing that that was the emotion Pichu expressed the best. Pichu nodded.

"Well remember this, my rabid light switch, as you forced me to say to Peter when I first met him, I'm not training you right now." I smiled at Pichu, who blinked the tears away, still on my shoulder. Maestro looked at me like I was crazy, and Chopin ate his croutons from the salad bar noisily.

"Pichu," Peter joined the conversation, addressing Pichu for the first time. "Do you want me to train you, though? There are two ways to look at this. One, you can avoid battling for all your life so as to make sure that this never happens to you. Two, you can become so strong that you won't _let _it happen to you." Peter shrugged.

"Pii!" Pichu yelled. I wasn't sure if it was expressing a yes or a no. Peter smiled, though. "I think its saying yes," he explained.

"OK," I said hesitantly, worrying about putting power into its little paws, but at the same time, understanding that if I ever wanted it to grow up, and be able to give it to the Center, where it would be very useful to the world and to other Pokemon, learning to fight is a big part of its growing up.

"I'll help." I said. Pichu rolled its eyes.

"What, you don't think I can train you?" I asked, a bit playfully, but also seriously.

"Piichu!" It called, and shocked me harder than it had in a while.

"Oww…" I moaned. "OK, so you're strong; but a part of being strong is only using it when you have to…"

Pichu cheeped as though in laughter. We have a long way to go, I thought to myself.


	17. Hoenn: Rustboro

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

Later that day, we reconvened on the couch in the lobby of the Pokemon Center. Brett sat next to Lavender, holding a large wad of cash, counting it with pride. Lavender was also proud, not because of any large pile of cash, but because of a small pastel pink ribbon she held in her hand.

"Thanks again for Ecru! Ecru is such a born contest Pokemon! I'll evolve him soon!" Lavender said.

I wasn't aware how a Pokemon that looked like it belonged in a club sandwich was artful and beautiful enough for a contest, but who was I to turn down an extremely powerful, fully evolved Pokemon when the time came?

"So where are we going next?" I asked. "We've squeezed all we can out of this town, right?"

"Why so eager to leave?" Peter asked me. "We can just relax for a while, or train a bit. I wouldn't mind teaching some of my Pokemon to swim."

I wasn't about to tell everyone that I was eager to return to my home I had been abducted from by my own father, so I just shrugged. "I'm sure Brett wants to get his starter Pokemon and start training." Brett rolled his eyes and pretended to vomit at that comment, but only I saw.

"We should move on! There's a contest back in Rustboro City!"

"We can only get there by boat, and we'd have to go through Rusturf Tunnel," Peter said.

"We do want to go back though, and get a starter for Brett, remember!" I was quick to exclaim.

"If I could evolve Ecru, we could ride him back to Rusturf Tunnel." Lavender said.

"You'd have to find a way to teach him Surf," Brett warned. "And you can't evolve him unless he has more contests, and the way to do that would be to go get more contests in other cities."

"Catch-22 much?" A voice asked us, a sultry, warm voice. I cursed inwardly, then turned around.

"Lauren…" I said, trailing off when I saw how little clothing she was wearing. She was wearing a small bikini top with ocean waves, and short brown shorts, with a very visible line of her bikini showing.

"Hi, guys! Do you need a ride? I _love_ giving out rides!" On the word 'love,' she bounced on the balls of her heels slightly, making her breasts shake.

"We could always find a ferry," Lavender suggested, clearly disliking the idea of Lauren coming along as much as I did.

"Sure, sounds great," Peter said, craning his head up to stare at Lauren's face. We couldn't protest after that.

"I caught an Abra in Granite cave who can teleport, and I have a water Pokemon who can hold two people." She offered. "Free of charge."

"I'll teleport!" I offered immediately, wanting to speed up my trip home to Pallet Town, even by just a matter of hours.

"Me too!" Brett yelled loudly immediately afterwards.

"I will too," Lavender agreed, slower.

"Perfect," Lauren said. "I need to be on my Pokemon to control him. Peter, want to come with me?" Peter nodded.

I groaned. Damn, she was good. She now would have several hours of alone time with Peter, surrounded just by her and the ocean. Lavender's upper lip trembled, and her whole face seemed to melt into sadness; clearly she, too, understood what Lavender had just finagled.

Brett, of course, didn't understand, wouldn't understand. We all walked outside. With a mournful air, we smiled dismally, the spurned women and the tagalong juvenile. We stood next to the sea, the shore stark and real in the daylight, where cigarette butts littered the shore rather than reflections of lamplight and dreams.

Lauren, with a smirk and a flash of light, called out an Abra and a penguin that vaguely resembled a fortress, with metal lining its flippers.

"Wow," I said, staring at the titan. It had to be a Sinnoh Pokemon.

"Like my Empoleon?" She asked, staring at Lavender and I. "He's my starter. Great endurance, medium speed, but he can actually cut through ice with his flippers! Pretty safe, and he's strong enough to support two people all the way back to mainland."

"Siiria, go take them to Rustboro City. We'll be back at Route 104 by tonight if we start soon." Lauren spoke to the Abra. Empoleon clambered slowly into deep enough water, facing down. Lavender and Peter jumped onto Empoleon's back, and Empoleon began to row slowly out, using his steel-reinforced flippers as oars.

"Sriah, or whatever your name is, time to go, right?" I asked.

The Abra shook its head, and pointed to my Pokemon.

"Oh, that sucks," I said, unused to recalling Maestro and Chopin, although I had a bit more experience with Pichu. I realized a little bit why my dad didn't call in the Pikachu; it was a stark reminder that you _owned _the Pokemon; you could make them disappear. I did so, however, and the Abra nodded, and gestured to us all. We huddled close, making sure each one of us was touching him, and with a vivid flash of violet light, my surroundings appeared around me; Rustboro was a town of rock and stone, a bit like Pewter City.

"Wait. I just thought of something." I said to myself. "If this Abra can teleport, why didn't we just go to the start of Hoenn and get Brett a starter?" I asked.

"Good question," said Lavender. "I wish you thought of that before Lauren got so much alone time with Peter!"

"We can still get the starter now!" I said.

"What would be the point?" Brett asked. "We're heading backwards anyways, then we'll just go forwards again. Besides, Peter will want to go back and catch all the Pokemon anyways."

"Yeah, but don't you want 'your' starter earlier?" I asked, nudging Brett. He got the message, and Lavender, having looked up contest data on a telephone pole dotted with flyers, determined that the next contest was three days from now, and she wasn't missing anything.

"Hey, can you take us to the starter town for Hoenn?" The Abra shrugged.

"Do you need to know its name?" I asked. The Abra nodded, and I cursed to myself.

The house to the left of the Pokemon Center seemed like a good option. It seemed to be a business as well; a neon sign advertised 'Cut 1,000.'

"My hair isn't that long," I thought to myself, but I did have bad split ends, so I wouldn't begrudge a trim.

I walked inside, but didn't see a barber chair or even a sink. What I did see, however, was a man sitting at a desk, with several small, round discs.

"What's the town the Professor lives in?" I asked, wishing I didn't have to resort to this.

"Would you like a Cut?" He asked.

"Is this even a salon?"

"No!" He laughed a while at that. "Do you do contest battles or something?" He laughed. I was glad Lavender wasn't in there with me; he said it like it was an insult.

"No, I sell Cut, which is an HM. It gives your Pokemon a new attack. When they go into their Pokeballs, Pokemon turn to energy, and when you put the Pokeball on the disc, the disc uploads the information and muscle memory required to cut through underbrush, bushes, and even small trees to your Pokemon. And your opponents, of course. Only 1,000 in cash! My family used to give away unlimited versions for free, but the hard times, you know? Three Pokemon can learn this, and then it degrades."

I looked at the remainder of money in my pocket. Was it worth it to spend every one of my last remaining dollars on Pokemon attacks, of all things? I called out my three Pokemon. Pichu gave me a horrendous shock, Maestro playfully tugged at my shoelaces, and Chopin warbled a triumphant note and posed. The posing he probably picked up from Lavender. Not a good thing…

"Can any of them learn cut?"

"The Rattata definitely can, and let me check. Yes, the cricket can!" The man said. "And you can even teach it to one of your later Pokemon!" He wheedled. I was lucky that my Pokemon Center meals were free, and my soup was a treat from Peter. But weren't these attacks investments? If this would help them win battles, we'd get more money. Of course, this actually meant that I had to train them. I winced, knowing that it was essentially inevitable.

"I'll take a Cut," I said finally, hoping that training wouldn't crimp my style.

"Alright then!" The man said, cheerfully, holding out one of the discs to me. I called Maestro back in, and Chopin as well. I tried the machine on Chopin first, then on Maestro. The only sign that it worked was a loud whirring sound after each one was finished.

I called out Maestro and Chopin, then realized something when I saw them both glaring at me.

"Sorry; I should have asked you first. Do you mind?" Chopin shrugged, but Maestro rolled his eyes, and with sharper incisors than normal, cut straight through my sneakers.

"Not nice!" I yelled, wishing that I had examined my bare feet more often; my toenails were growing extremely long and sharp, like squared talons. At least Peter wasn't here to see.

Maestro, his anger now subsided, ground his teeth happily, and when he looked at me through his narrowed ruby eyes, it was very difficult to stay mad.

I made a rude noise, and stalked out of the Cut store, Chopin, Maestro, and Pichu trailing behind me.

"What now?" I asked. I now saw the futility of getting a starter a few hours early. In the end, how much would this training time really matter?

I headed into the Pokemon Center, begged Nurse Joy for a sewing needle to sew up my sneakers, and booked Lavender and I a room in advance. I was used to sharing a room with her; although she was stupid, she wasn't intentionally mean, and as far as I knew, she didn't snore or smell. Those were the only rooming qualifications I had. The Nurse Joy looked at me dubiously, but I just stared at her back evenly. It was hard to be intimidated by a petite pink-haired nurse when I had survived Pichu. I deserved a commemorative T-Shirt ("I survived a Psychotic Pichu"), but short of that, at least one silver lining was that I was far less daunted than I had been prior to this hellish camping trip.

Brett meanwhile reserved a room for Peter and himself, presumably wanting to be at least protected in a room with tough Pokemon.

We headed back outside and met up together. I really wished that I knew how to be training my Pokemon, or even what exactly I should be training them to do.


	18. Hoenn: Symptom

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

"Race time!" I yelled to my three Pokemon, and broke into a trot. They stared back at me, most likely wondering if the fresh Hoenn air had caused me to lose my mind.

"C'mon, Chopin! Maestro! Tiny yellow rat!" True to form, Pichu leapt after me with a high-pitched, angry snarl at the insult, and Maestro started loping after Pichu, easily catching up with it, and tackling it to the ground. Rattata were fast; speed, sharp teeth, semi-prehensile hands, and wits were all they had to survive on in the wild, against the ferocious Fearow, the self-defense guru Mankey, and drink from waters inhabited by Slowpoke and Gyrados.

Chopin wasn't as good with the speed; like Pichu, he walked on two legs rather than four. However, watching Chopin attempt to run behind my back probably wasn't the best idea; I ran into another trainer and fell. He was a boy who looked to be around sixteen, with rough, black stubble. His tough image was only shattered by his large glasses.

"Want to battle?" The boy asked, staring calculatingly at me, attempting to judge my strength.

"No," I said, as sweetly as I could manage. Anyone who had been training for six years would cut my Pokemon to shreds.

"It's rude to refuse, you know," the boy said with all of the snootiness he could manage.

"I'm sorry," I said, genuinely sorry, especially since I was breaking league etiquette.

"Aww, eff off," he said with a frown, flashing me his middle finger.

"What a jerk," Brett muttered under his breath after the trainer stalked off.

"Why was he so mean?" Lavender asked, frowning after the boy with something like anger in her eyes.

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "Maybe once that stick up his ass comes out, he'll be able to talk about his problems."

Brett laughed, although he cringed slightly at the word 'ass.' No wonder Peter needed to tell him what a 'lesbian' was!

"So, in short," I said to my three Pokemon. "I need to train you. Pichu, your training will be mostly electrical. Maestro, I need to condition you physically. Chopin, I have no idea."

Of course, standing at a thoroughfare in the middle of a city like we were, I soon found out that I had an audience of people, clearly amused, watching me attempt to figure out the initial training.

"Umm, Maestro, you're really fast. Maybe if you run more you'll get faster? No, I don't know." I blanched slightly. Maestro was going to be the _easy_ one, and I was having this much trouble? Maestro's abilities were much like that of an untrained human; if I was attacked in battle, couldn't I tackle, run, bite, and claw too, if not as effectively? On the other hand, I wasn't capable of just firing off the inevitable Thundershock whenever I felt threatened or angry. This would be like me teaching a Pidgey how to fly. It really didn't make sense. I would need help.

I asked Brett, "How do you really train a Pokemon?" He knew a lot, why not this?

"How would I know? I don't bother with the _beginning_ training parts," he scoffed contemptuously.

I turned to Lavender.

"I could show you how to make Pichu look cuter! It would be in the Cute category of contests. No idea about the Kricketune, and Rattata aren't exactly contest Pokemon…" She trailed off, realizing how offensive that comment was. I did as well, and glared.

"I can't help you, sorry," Lavender concluded.

"Argh. How do people just know?"

"If they want to be trainers, I guess they research?" Brett offered.

"That's it," I fumed, and thought for a moment or two. I turned to the nearest person who was watching with amusement. She looked to be at least seventeen. She was wearing red and black, and was distinguishable by a spiked collar she wore, reminding me of guard Pokemon I sometimes saw. It occurred to me I should have asked someone who appeared to have fewer ties to Satan, if her pentagram necklaces and belt motif said anything, but these revelations only came after I asked, fearfully, "Could you help me?"

"With what?" She spat, looking me over as if sizing me up. Her eyes turned to Brett, who instinctively moved behind Lavender. When she saw Lavender, she raised her eyebrows, and an expression of distaste slid onto her face. There was something scorching about her gaze, but Lavender did gaze back for a second before looking down demurely.

"Nice Rattata," she said with a nod to Maestro.

"Thank you, his name is Maestro," I said, wondering why she was impressed by the most common Pokemon. People were either surprised that I had a Sinnoh Pokemon, which were generally uncommon to Hoenn, or mistakenly taken by Pichu's cuteness.

"Did I ask for his name?" She said sharply, turning her ferocious glare on me.

"Will you do everything I say?" She asked nastily, her eyes barely seeming to blink.

"Yes," I said respectfully, fully cowed and intimidated by the terrifying visage before me.

"That's your problem, to start out. What if I gave you shitty advice?" Now she merely looked bemused, and for a second I felt like I understood her.

Lavender, meanwhile, shifted her eyes constantly between me and the scary girl.

"Uhh, Twig?" She whispered quietly, thankfully my name as well. "Are you sure you should trust her?"

"Yes," I said unfailingly. The people I didn't trust were the ones who seemed perfect, I realized in a moment of clarity. Lauren, with her killer strategy and good looks, she could be depended upon-- to be a conniving bitch. Lavender, despite her otherwise perfect niceness and adorableness, was stupid as a newborn Caterpie, and so I trusted her unfailingly. Peter was hot, often kind, and doggedly loyal, and yet he was so conceited. This girl was a scary asshole; how could I _not _trust her?

"Let me show you my Pokemon, in case you need motivation," the girl said with a laugh, staring at Lavender rather than me. Clearly, she loved Lavender's fear, fed on it even.

"Go, Khuno!" A Noctowl emerged; I recognized it precisely because my father had one, although this one wasn't Shiny. It hooted, and sat on her shoulder, glaring at the world.

"Totora!" A Spinda emerged, making lazy, drunken circles. It was marked by a patch that appeared to be shaped like Africa.

"Yaku!" What emerged appeared to be a steel spider from a nightmare. It had two enormous legs, and it had two angry red eyes which were partially given their fierce expression by a silver 'X' that adorned its face.

"Vagabond!" An enormous black Raticate emerged, and it instantly swung its head to Maestro and hissed. Maestro responded with a cheep.

"It's just vegetable dye. Creeps people out," she said with a wicked smile.

She then wordlessly released a Marowak, and a Ninetales.

"You have good Pokemon," I breathed, staring at the Ninetales especially. She glared back, the compliment meaning nothing to her.

"Because I trained them. Don't go easy. Be ruthless. If you somehow manage to find a trainer with less ability than you, fight them. Beat them. The best skill your Pokemon can learn is cruelty. When they don't go easy, they win. Your Pokemon have all the potential to destroy your enemies, but only if they leave compassion in the dust. You are the compassion, their attacks are the fury, and they are the weapon."

My first thought was 'what the hell?' Then I thought about it. _She was right._ Pichu didn't go easy, but Maestro did. He tackled Pichu without hurting it. If Maestro could let go of his inhibitions to do violence, if there was no play fighting, only war, then he would be better. If you have hesitations, nothing good will come of it; your enemy might not have hesitations or morals like you do. Wild Pokemon certainly didn't have morals or inhibitions. They knew nothing but death to their enemies and their prey.

Another trainer came up to me. He was the same age as her, and looked a lot alike, with the same small nose, same freckles, and the same auburn hair. He wore blue and yellow.

"I'm Colin. Ignore my twin Lyall. She doesn't know what she's talking about. Let me show you _my _Pokemon!"

He instantly released a noble Arcanine, its mane flowing in the wind. The Arcanine was less graceful when it bounded over to Colin, who was inches below his Pokemon, and licked him.

Next came a Poliwrath, intimidating and frowning, and yet it still wandered over to Colin, and gave him a hearty slap on the back.

A bird Pokemon came out, and it appeared to be psychically communicating with its owner. "Xatu, do you spend all of your time in the Lux ball thinking of jokes?" He asked aloud, and ruffled its feathers.

Next, a diminutive Bellsprout came out. I wondered why a trainer who could seamlessly raise an Arcanine felt the need to keep a plant which was essentially a weed.

As if answering my mental query, Colin turned to me and answered, "She doesn't want to evolve. Frankly, I'm now inclined to agree. She's much more flexible and acrobatic this way, and can sidestep many attacks."

"Did you just?"

"I'm a Psychic." Colin said, staring at his Pokemon with a beatific smile.

"This is how you train. Not by might, not by power, but by spirit alone, shall your Pokemon prevail. Love your Pokemon, and teach them to love all else. If you love your enemy, then you will know your enemy. If you teach your Pokemon compassion and love, bring out what they already have, they will feel guilt for their actions, they will do more than rage. They will fear, they will be joyous, and that mentally will strengthen them."

I understood this as well. If they were psychologically complex, and didn't just repress their guilt, they would have a greater fortitude of will. If they took the time to respect their opponents rather than just being hell-bent on destruction, they would pick up cues and know how to react.

"The choice is yours, but don't follow my bleeding-heart brother," Lyall snarled. "Look at my Pokemon. Not everyone has Colin's psychic abilities," she said with distaste, "but they turned out all right. Do you really think that encouraging your Pokemon to fear is a particularly nice thing to do? Confusion comes from ambiguity, and that's all my brother is suggesting. You love your Pokemon? Do you want them to get hurt? I don't. I would give my life for Vagabond, but it wouldn't save him. On the other hand, teaching him to be prepared to take a life? Pokemon can be vicious, but even more so for people. Don't let your Pokemon wallow in their confusion. You don't like confusion, do you? My Pokemon have never been Confused, because that in a battle, all they do is try to kill. No exceptions. If you love your Pokemon, you'll make them strong, give them the joy of battling unshackled by guilt."

"The choice is yours. Will you force your Pokemon to become soldiers?" Colin said mildly.

"My Pokemon are NOT soldiers!" Lyall screamed. She seemed almost ready to jump onto Colin.

"The choice is yours," they both said at once, turning to me. I blinked.

"There's no third option?" I pleaded perhaps a bit pathetically.

"Is there _ever _a third option?" Colin asked in an amused voice which dripped with sympathy.

"This is really strange," I mused, wondering how all this started. I looked around me for Lavender and Brett, but both of them were gone.

"What's strange?" Lyall asked, placing a long hand on my shoulder, squeezing it.

"This is," I said. "Why is this a choice? Can I really choose now?"

"Can you go without choosing now?" Colin asked, blinking lightly.

"Maybe?" I said, unsure what the right answer was.

"This reality doesn't even exist," Lyall hissed harshly. "You think it matters what you choose here? Just pick my way." The last was whispered in a voice half pleading, half seductive.

"Everything really exists, deep down far enough," Colin said.

"Am I…asleep again?" I asked. Maybe that made sense. But what was real, what wasn't? I wasn't dreaming this whole day, was I? When did dream begin and wakefulness end?

"Sucks, doesn't it, not knowing what's real and what's fake?" Lyall said. "If you were a Pokemon told at once to be merciless in battle and compassionate in all else, life is like that."

"I don't know what to believe," I said. "This can't be a dream. If it was a dream, I would be awake by now."

"Not really." Colin said. "You're not well."

"A person is doing this to you." Lyall hissed.

"You're suspicious, aren't you, so ready to blame others?" I said, starting to get annoyed at her. "You know what; maybe my Pokemon will be able to separate their battling and normal lives! They can be fierce and kind. I trust them. And you know what? If it doesn't work, then by all means, I will try your plan, Lyall. I will _venerate _you in a god-damned _shrine_! Colin, I'll try your way for my first big battle; I guess I'll do a gym battle. Your hippy optimism will prevail by that battle, or I'll start to follow the cult of the Queen of Darkness over there, right?"  
"Sounds good," both said at once. Colin laughed, and Lyall glared at him.

"About time to get out of this damned dream," Lyall said in my own voice.

"Yeah, ditto that," Colin said with a grin, also in my voice.

"You must have narcolepsy," Lyall said, but her eyed didn't flash with their usual hate- only concern. And she spoke with the deep, comforting voice of a tall dark-skinned man with a goatee. Wait, how did I?


	19. Hoenn: Diagnosis

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

I opened my eyes.

"Pardon me?"

"I'm sorry. Your brain scans showed a slight drop in activity, so I figured you were waking up. You have hypnagogic narcolepsy."

"Dropped?" I asked questioningly.

"The human brain during dream sleep is slightly more active than the awake brain. During non-dream sleep, your brain waves become very slow, however. Have you noticed yourself being very sleepy?"

"Yeah, I normally am, but I go through it; it's not worse than other people, is it?"

"It probably is, honey. Your narcolepsy means that due to a brain issue, you will occasionally fall straight into REM, dream sleep out of nowhere. These sleep attacks are physically irresistible. This has happened to you before, right? First reality, then all of a sudden the world around you will change?"

"I guess so," I thought, thinking of the gradual shift from the real to the absurd in my last episode, or the time when I dreamt Chopin talked to me. I thought those were the drugs that first time, however. Or was _this_ even real? Usually in my dreams, I was secluded. That's why the first indication that something was up was that Brett and Lavender had mysteriously disappeared. And here I was, seemingly alone with this unfamiliar figure.

"Are _you_ real?" I asked hesitantly.

"Of course. Do you need proof?"

"Sure, why not?" I asked.

"Alright." He said, and his face settled into a pleasant, unfocused expression, and he leaned against another examining table in the room and did not move.

I watched him, looking for even the slightest twitch in his features, but nothing came.

"So I _am _dreaming?" I asked.

No response came from that corner, so my hands went to my belt. I called out Pichu.

"Hey, Pichu. I have a brain disorder that makes me fall into my dreams randomly. I will lapse in and out of reality often. That guy over there is frozen. Are you real or not?"

Pichu looked at me very quizzically, then jumped onto my head almost affectionately.

"Damn it, I _must _be dreaming," I said, realizing that everything that the man said about me having narcolepsy must be a dream also. Pichu wasn't shocking me; this couldn't be reality, could it?

However, relief and pain flooded through my body all at once as Pichu released a thundershock at me.

"Is that proof?" The man asked, coming up from stillness again. "I reiterate- this is not a dream. However, some of what would normally seem like your waking life might be. The biggest problem for some narcoleptics is that ones with unimaginative dreams are confounded by the fact that their dreams are _every bit as realistic as real life_. Your brain must be a doozy though; from what I've been told, your dreams actually keep you in the same setting for a while before going crazy on you. It might be hard to pinpoint the exact moment when reality turns into dreams. These episodes can last anywhere from moments to hours." The doctor said with a frown.

"And there is no cure?" I asked.

"Modern science has yet to achieve this. Modern science takes a very Pokemon-centric view, if you haven't noticed." The doctor said, scorn pervading his voice. "Since Pokemon fight and therefore become injured much more often, there are three times as many Centers as hospitals." I knew that hospitals weren't common, but before that, it hadn't been a problem; I led a safe life, and everyone knew basic first aid. Now, however, realizing that my life could be at stake, I was less impressed by this state of affairs.

"My recommendation would be to get a Psychic Pokemon. After a while, they'd notice the shift in your brainwaves from full consciousness to your REM episodes, although it will happen in a matter of seconds. If they could predict your hypnagogic shifts, they could levitate you to a safer place. Your Pichu can try a light shock to attempt to revive you, but that could move into full-on catalepsy if done wrong, so it must become very skilled with its electricity before it attempts to do so."

"Where am I?" I asked finally, wondering why I was alone with the doctor. Where were Brett and Lavender?

"You're in Rustboro City. The people with you told me to tell you that they were heading to Route 104, and to meet them at the Center." The doctor said. I was a bit offended to say the least. After that seductress Lauren had finally returned our Peter to us, couldn't all of them, minus Lauren, come to visit me here?

"Thank you," I said icily. "So can I just leave now or what?" Well, Lavender was stupid, and Brett was ten, an immature ten. Maybe they didn't realize that leaving a convalescent to go wait for our leader was a bit rude.

"I can't do anything more for you," the doctor said, nearly fuming. "I wish I could. Get a Psychic Pokemon, and make sure your Pokemon know that if you slump to the ground unconscious, unable to move, and if your eyes are flickering, that you are asleep, and that it will be very hard, if not impossible, to wake you up. They have to let it run its course. If you're traveling in a group, you might want to get a Pokemon big enough to carry you if their progress can't be hindered." And it clearly can't, I thought with a roll of my eyes; Brett and Lavender's desertion was proof of that.

I got up from an infirmary surface (first time: hospital bed, second time: examination table) for the second time in a week. What right did my dad have to send me out into the cold, scary world? When I was sick, no less?

"You don't know my name," I told the doctor, more confident on my legs this time I got up, although thankful I just awoke from a dream, not a coma.

"I do, Twig. We have no legal inter-regional system of medical filing, but you are famous."

"I didn't want to train," I told the medical professional. He was the first one I told. It didn't make me feel any better, but it didn't make me feel any worse.

"I know. It's famous amongst the professional circuit."

"Can you help me home?"

"It's also famous amongst the inter-regional transportation circuit. You will have extreme difficulty finding your way home. He has blocked such agencies from selling you tickets." The doctor said, staring into my face, gauging my reaction.

My face crumpled in an instant, like an airbag upon impact. My cry must have sounded a bit like a thunderclap, but the doctor wasn't taken aback.

I had always clung to the hope that I could just train here in Hoenn for a while, and afford the tickets. I now realized the only reason I got here from Sinnoh in the first place; I didn't look like myself, climbing onto the boat disoriented, perhaps my hair matted, with a ticket that wasn't in my name. The ticket booked by that Claudia Pense, the woman with the blonde hair who helped me so much, was it booked with identification? My father was the Pokemon Master; could he seriously stop me from going home other than—on a strong water Pokemon? A very strong water Pokemon. I would have to find and train a Pokemon strong enough to cross the Ocean from Hoenn into Johto. The railroad between Johto and Kanto was probably barred from my access as well; I would either have to walk through the rail tunnel in between the mountains that separated the continents, risking electrocution, or I would have to find an Ice and a Fire Pokemon, one to withstand the cold of the mountain range, one to warm up everyone else. Worse, unless I could convince the others to also follow my unconventional path, I would be doing this alone.


	20. Hoenn: Plans Astray

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

The tears gushed, and they gushed fast, even more than when I cried, a girl alone in the forest, with only an irate Pichu for company. I was a prisoner in reverse- I could go anywhere but home, it seemed. Pichu jumped from my head into my arms; it looked sad too, and I didn't understand why.

"Your father is at my home," I realized then, remembering how angrily Pichu reacted long ago in Sinnoh when I said that he probably didn't even know his father that well.

"Your father hated me, it's true," Pichu shocked me at this reminder that I didn't like him. "But he was a good Pikachu, the strongest in the world; so strong that criminals pursued him for hundreds of miles." This was the wrong thing to say. Pichu quivered, and its black eyes glistened with what I assumed were tears and fears.

"Your father might not have been kind; he tried to kill me. But he tried to kill me up front, with a shock. He didn't force his beliefs on me, other than by trying to force his belief that I shouldn't be there. Your dad might have been a yellow rat," at this Pichu shocked me even more; the shock was continuous now, and the doctor fled.

"PIIIIIIIIIIIII!" Pichu screamed.

"Look, Pichu, what I'm trying to say is that your dad couldn't help being a rat. The most ratty thing to do, no offense meant to Maestro, of course," I said, remembering that Maestro was a rat, and like a brother to me, "is what my father did. And I know you probably don't know him well, but once I finally get home, you will." Why was Pichu so angry? My lips burned.

"Pichu," I cried; the tears were what magnified its electric powers, I realized. "We'll get through this. Don't shock me in the ocean. I'll die, honest." I was paralyzed again like I had been that first time; I couldn't move.

The yellow glow that was Pichu's shocking stopped, only to be replaced by white, brilliant glow. Was Pichu--- oh no! It was evolving… I couldn't move; I couldn't congratulate it. Evolving from friendship, I realized. Pichu and I weren't friends, but we weren't enemies. We were united by our common situation: our fathers had neglected or betrayed us both. I managed a quick shake of my head, straining my muscles. The light stopped; Pichu returned to my vision. I crossed my eyes as it walked closer to me.

"Pii?" It asked.

"Thanks, Pichu, but not just yet. We're both feeling really emotional now. Let's wait. Besides, I have a headache." I said, a smile breaking across my chapped lips. Sounded like we were talking sex, not evolution.

"Chu." It said solemnly, not understanding, but for once, not contesting what I realized was now my authority. Not because it was a Pokemon and I was a human, but because we were alike and I was older. Now I understood Colin. I wasn't their master, just their sister. Didn't I call Maestro like my brother? He was more like my twin. Chopin seemed like my older brother, the quiet kind. He reminded me of my friend Benny, my first friend, Brock's youngest brother, the quiet artist of humans.

"I have to close shop; it's dusk." The doctor said, coming back in. "Twig," he said (how strange it was to find myself called by my own name after all this time!) "You are a girl of thirteen, but a human being of rare compassion and understanding. You would make a good doctor. Would you like to stay here with me? You could be an intern, you wouldn't have to train." Peter had been given an offer recently as well, but this one, unlike Brawly's offer, seemed instantly seductive rather than repulsive.

"I'd have to talk to my Pokemon and my travel group." I said emotionlessly.

I released Maestro and Chopin.

"Sit down, guys," I said, gesturing to the examination table. Pichu was already on my left shoulder, and Maestro hopped onto my right.

"None of you but Pichu knows the real story, frankly. I awoke in Sinnoh, in a forest; I still don't know where it was. I had with me my supplies, and the 'electric rat' here." Pichu growled, but of course, with no malice to it. Not anymore.

"The night before, I had slept peacefully in my bed in Kanto. I had a note from my father, Ash Ketchum, that I hadn't wanted to train, but that he knew," my voice dripped acid here. "That I would love it, and told me that when I could get home, I could stop training. Crazy much?" Maestro's eyes looked huge; and Chopin whistled in surprise.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I didn't realize until the doctor here told me, that he has made it very very difficult for me to get back as well. The only reason I got from Sinnoh to Hoenn was because that my ticket belonged to somebody else. He has told all shipping companies not to sell me a ticket. To get from Hoenn to Johto, I will need to train up a Pokemon to swim across the ocean. I think that was his intent; it would have forced me to get a strong Pokemon, and therefore train a lot. From Johto to Kanto, there is a range of mountains, with one railroad going under them in a tunnel. I won't be able to get a ticket onto that train; booking tickets requires identification I wouldn't have with a disguise. To cross that mountain range, I'll need Pokemon that can withstand the cold, Pokemon that can keep me warm. I'll also need a Psychic, my bias against Confusion aside," all my Pokemon, Pichu especially, looked angry at this; my hatred for Pokemon that fought by psychically destroy others from the inside out had only grown since that battle in which Infernape tried to hurt himself, and it had clearly grown in my Pokemon too.

"I have narcolepsy, I just found out." I continued. "I will fall into dream sleep and once I'm in it, I will be there for anywhere in between a few minutes and an hour. If this happens to me, please someone catch my head when I fall, and put me in a safe place. There is no cure, and when I'm in the dreams, even I can't tell what's real and what's not, because I fall so quickly. You three need to be my eyes and ears. Tell me what's real, and tell me what's not, because that otherwise I might not ever know."

Maestro butted his head against me like an affectionate cat; he would protect me, and I only hoped that I could protect him. The tears started again.

"The doctor here has offered me a job as an intern. I'd learn how to heal people. If that happens, you can stay with me, continue on with Peter, Lavender, and Brett, or go home, if you have one."

Maestro shook his head; I won him from a raffle, so he probably was domesticated, with no wild place to call his home.

Chopin edged closer to me as well.

"Pichu, you're the son of the strongest Pikachu this world has ever seen. You should be trained. I'd give you to Peter." It shook its head, and its little claws grasped me tighter. I tried not to go the usual way of anger; something was different now.

"I made a promise once," I mused. "I promised Lavender I would catch her a Dratini in Kanto when she gave hers to Peter. How can I do that without training? She wouldn't remember…but I did promise to protect her." Also, I thought to myself, I liked Peter a lot. Not with Lavender's blind love, but with something a little bit different. I didn't really know what. Why would I leave him now?

"Thank you," I said, poking my head out of the room, meeting eyes with the doctor. "But I made promises, and I still need to get back home to my life in Kanto. Thank you again, though." I said, hoping he wouldn't be offended.

"I figured as much," he said evenly, taking rejection much better than Brawly did. "However, I do have a proposition for you; instead of sending your additional Pokemon to Professor Oak, would you like to consider sending them to me? I'm sure that I could find some use for them around the hospital, and they would be actually useful when you weren't with them. I know it would give you less control over your Pokemon, but…"

"I'll do it!" I said excitedly. Here they were, being useful! He could help them gain skills that would be useful inside the battlefield and out.

"How would I make sure that they get sent to you?" I asked. I only had three Pokemon right now, so I had no idea. I never expected I would be training out long enough to get over six Pokemon.

"Give me your Pokedex and I will program it for you," the doctor said with a smile. I handed it over, and a moment later, he handed it back.

"Most people leave their extra Pokemon with Professors rather than people who could really use them. They would get better care with a Professor, and remain in battling condition for longer, but lord knows they wouldn't learn as much." He said.

"Well, thank you. How do I get from here to the Center?" I asked.

"I daresay your Rattata could sniff it out," the doctor said evenly.

"Probably. What's your name? You never told me," I said, a bit accusingly.

"I am doctor Joseph Daikon. Good luck, Twig. And remember, you can always call me; I'm in your contact list. If the internship position isn't filled, you can always come back; I'd be happy to have you. Usually we only get washed-out twenty-somethings who weren't good enough to qualify for the League," he said sarcastically.

"That sucks. Anyways I should be getting back," I said. "C'mon guys."

Pichu was still on my shoulder, and hopped down. Maestro still stayed on my shoulder, but I put him down.

"C'mon, you lazy lump! How else are you going to get faster if I'm your chauffer all the time?" Maestro rolled his eyes and hissed, but he did what I said and hopped down. When he walked, it was extremely slow, however, and with every roll of his haunches he let out a giant wheeze.

"Very funny," I said sardonically, but I was actually laughing. Chopin, the loveable workhorse that he was, was just walking along just fine.

"Hey, you smell anything?" I asked Maestro. In between wheezes he nodded, thumped his tail on the ground, and pointed his nose towards what I saw in the distance to be the Pokemon Center.

I walked over in time, overcoming the stiffness, and finally I arrived. I headed in, and saw Lavender, Brett, Peter, and Lauren all sitting on one of the couches.

"Hey," I said.

"I'm so glad you're OK!" Lavender said. She ran up to me and gave me a hug. Brett, a second behind her, did the same.

But what I really was excited about was Peter's oh so casual, "How ya doin'?" It made me very happy to tell him,

"I'm doing fine. When did you guys get in?"

"Thirty minutes ago. We experienced some… delays." The quirk of Lauren's perfect eyebrows told me all I needed to know about what she wanted us to think went on during the 'delays.'

"I have to be going soon," Lauren continued, clearly regretful. "I need to get to Verdanturf for the next contest. Preliminaries start in a week."

Lavender looked towards Peter imploringly. "Could we go to?"

"Not yet," he said annoyed. "We have to go to Littleroot to get Brett his starter Pokemon."

"Could we make it from Rustboro to Littleroot to Verdanturf in a week?" I asked.

"We actually would pass right through Verdanturf to get to Littleroot if we take the trail," Peter said, closing his eyes as if attempting to visualize a map.

"What if we don't take the trail?" Brett asked.

"Not safe. There's some serious forest there. We would get really lost."

"Ahh." Brett remarked.

"Once we're done here in Rustboro we can go through to Verdanturf. The kid can wait a little while to get his starter, right?" Peter asked Brett.

"Sure, why not?" Brett muttered. I frowned. I would have a much harder time beating Roxanne if she used rock Pokemon and I didn't have Brett's starter. I figured that this battle would be my test run. I needed to start training anyways.

"Peter?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"What Pokemon would be strong enough to cross the ocean from Hoenn to Johto?"

"It would take at least two weeks, even on the fastest Pokemon." Peter mused. "Why? I met you on a cruise, you can just go on another." He continued.

"I thought it would be fun to cross the ocean. It would be, wouldn't it?" I said nervously. I had to convince them to do the inter-ocean thing, or else I was on my own.

"I guess," Peter said, unconvinced.

"It's not very easy, you know," Lauren pouted. "My older brother did it once. I can go on Empoleon for distances near the coast like today, but once you get out into the open waters, it's really really choppy." For once, she sounded like she wasn't trying to seduce someone.

"How'd you do it?" I asked.

"It was really hard, especially with only six Pokemon. He had a Lapras, which was good for relatively shallow areas. He had a Lanturn go ahead of the Lapras to guide the way, and she'd rescue us if we fell off. Of course, he had to have a Wailord for the deep areas, they're pretty standard, but those are the slowest things ever. He had to use it the most, because that the Lapras couldn't hold us and our supplies for very long. He needed a Pelipper, which is a big pelican-type Pokemon. It caught us fish and could scout ahead. We would have died without it. He had to take along a Dragonair, which is another standard. They can control the weather naturally, so he had to take it along for storms. I don't remember what else he took along."

"Well, it does seem really hard. Not every trainer could do it. I know I wouldn't be able to!" Lavender giggled. "Your brother must have been a good trainer!"

"He was," Lauren said. I decided to ignore the 'was.'

"It doesn't sound too bad," Peter mused. "I could do it if I really wanted to," he added louder, almost defiant.

"You could Peter! You're really really strong!" Lavender said with a giggle.

Brett looked stricken. "Isn't that kind of, you know…risky?" I could almost see his mind furiously calculating probabilities.

"Doesn't sound too bad," Peter said loftily. "I could definitely do it."

"Peter, if you need a fishing rod, you can use my Super Rod!" Lavender exclaimed excitedly, happy to be of any help.

"OK then. So we'll stay here in Rustboro tomorrow, right?" I confirmed. "And after that we'll head to Littleroot by way of Verdanturf?"

"Yeah. Anyways, I'm getting a little bit tired. Goodnight," Peter said, and with that he walked up the stairs and away.

"I should probably go too," Brett muttered.

"I'm heading out now," Lauren said quietly. I was surprised she didn't make a big show about it. "See you at the contests, Lavender," she said.

"You too!" Lavender said, although her normally happy tones now lacked sincerity.

"Come on, let's go." I said to Lavender. She went upstairs to our room, and my Pokemon followed.

She opened the door with the twisted key; there was only one bed.

"I thought there'd be two. Sorry, is that ok?" She said, her face stricken with worry.

"Yeah, that's fine, no worries," I said dismissively.

"Yay!" She said, clapping her hands together.

She got into the bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

Pichu hopped into my sleeping bag. I guess despite our new warming up to each other, guess it still wasn't going to share a bed with me. Chopin apparently slept standing up. Maestro hopped into my arms and I cuddled him closer to my chest.

I fell asleep too.


	21. Hoenn: Practice

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

I woke up; yet another day started. Lavender, par usual, was already gone, presumably on another jogging endeavor to trim her nonexistent 'tummy fat.' Maestro was already awake as well, and struggled to get out of my grip. I opened up my arms, and he climbed out and licked me on the nose. He then jumped down from the bed and proceeded to run around the room, squeaking excitedly. He jumped on top of Pichu's sleeping bag, and although he was soon shocked for his lack of consideration, he went on. His tail did the cutest thing; it rotated like a helicopter propeller to keep balance!

"Awww," was all I could say at the cute sight. Chopin rolled his eyes and trilled sarcastically. Or, at least, I could tell he was being sarcastic. Was it actually in his trilling, or did I actually just know him really well?

"What are the usual attacks of rock Pokemon?" I asked the Pokedex. It remained silent.

"What. Don't tell me I actually have to OWN one to know. That's _ridiculous_!" I said.

I finally got up and brushed myself off. I headed down to the lobby, where a Chansey was serving Peter, Brett, and Lavender some coffee and eggs.

"Hey!" I called to them as I deftly pulled up a chair.

"I'm fighting Roxanne this morning!" Peter said smugly. "Fighting beats rock, and I'll take the 'Rocks' right out of Roxanne!"

I tried not to wince at his terrible pun.

"Cool," I said quickly. "Brett, what attacks do rock Pokemon usually use?"

"I could check my Calcudex with each individual Pokemon, but it would take forever," Brett finished his last words with a whine.

"Are we leaving Rustboro tomorrow? 'Cuz my Pokemon have never had a real fight, and I don't want to instantly put them into a gym battle without training!" I said hurriedly. "I want to get a move on just as much as the next guy," I said, knowing that I probably had _more _of a reason to get moving than 'the next guy,' "but could we please stay tomorrow too?"

"I don't care as long as we can make it to Verdanturf in a week!" Lavender said brightly.

"The walk shouldn't take more than three days," Peter said, squinting at a map he probably picked up from the Center.

"Perfect!" I said. "Thanks," I said hastily to Peter and Lavender, who probably couldn't wait to move on. I helped myself to some eggs, but took milk instead of coffee.

"How should I train them?" I asked to myself again.

"Find some trainers and beat them up?" Peter asked.

"Wait, you have some weak Pokemon, right?" I asked hopefully. "Could my Pokemon fight with them? That way I wouldn't have to get other people to battle with me!"

"My Pokemon aren't weak!" Peter said.

"I mean… weaker than that Infernape. I want my Pokemon to have a fighting chance."

"Good idea," Brett said.

"Fine, but prepare to be horribly beaten," Peter said smugly.

"Okay, I'm fine with that," I said honestly. I belatedly realized that I should have asked my Pokemon if _they _were fine with that.

"Hey, Maestro, Pichu, Chopin, you want to work on fighting? I think it will really help you guys!" I asked them.

"Piii!" Pichu nodded eagerly.

"Hey, with great power comes great responsibility. Try not to use that power to kill me."

Pichu shrugged; it clearly wasn't making any promises. Maestro, on the other hand, cocked his head to one side and nodded. Chopin looked a bit grim, but nodded too.

"Thanks guys!" I said happily.

"Three on three battle?" Peter suggested.

"Cool," I said. "Let's do this outside, shall we?" I said.

"I can referee," an amused teenager said. She was probably fifteen, and she was a tiny bit overweight, but had beautiful tanned skin and blonde hair that made her look, to me at least, like the belle of the ball. She had simple clothing, a gray T-shirt and jeans, but she wore an enormous digital wristwatch, and looked like she was very practical. I liked her immediately.

"The name's Camille," she said in her brisk voice. "This will be cool. It'll be like what, Battle of the Weenies?"

"Better than Battle of the Weiner," her companion said. He was one of the tallest people I had seen; he was easily 6'7", but was thin enough to look like a beanpole wearing khakis.

"Stop it," Camille said to her friend with a roll of her eyes.

"C'mon outside, then," Brett said while we were silent. I gathered my Pokemon around me like a mother hen, and we walked outside together.

"We shouldn't do this for money," I said, hastily remembering that I had none.

"Of course not. That would be like robbing you," Peter said with a sniff. That battle glint was back in his eyes again, and he looked at me in a different way than he had previously, sizing me up. It was kind of hot.

"Alright. Substitutions allowed, three-on three battle until one player doesn't have any Pokemon left. Begin!" The girl said, after her friend handed her a red flag.

"Go, Bidoof!" Peter said, releasing an exceptionally friendly and stupid looking Pokemon with enormous incisors. It looked a bit like a beaver.

"Maestro, you take this one," I said with a wave of my hand. Maestro cheeped a greeting to the Bidoof, who gnashed its teeth in response. Maestro smiled and nuzzled it on the nose.

I then recalled Lyall's advice to me in the dream; would my Pokemon really be dedicated enough to fight without sympathy unless I trained the sympathy out of them?

"Bidoof, tackle!" He called out. Bidoof ran towards Maestro, who dodged only at the last minute.

"Maestro, same!" Maestro ran towards Bidoof, and right before he crashed into Bidoof, Peter yelled out, "Defense curl!" Bidoof curled up into a ball, and Maestro slid right off.

"Rollout!" The Bidoof began rolling and picking up speed, and rolled right over Maestro, who was ground into the dirt. According to Brett's Calcudex which I looked at over his shoulder, Bidoof weighed over six times as much as Maestro, so it must have hurt a lot. Maestro got up, but shakily.

"Crap, I'm sorry Maestro!" I yelled. How had I been so able to scan battles coolly before? All I felt running through my head right now was this hot rage. Someone hurt the Rattata that was as close to me as a brother. I couldn't just sit and let him get hurt!

"Maestro, can you still walk?" Maestro nodded feebly, but couldn't jump out of the way in time to avoid Bidoof, who still was rolling around with intent to flatten.

"Maestro, jump on top of Bidoof if you can get there!" Maestro nodded, and waited a tiny bit until Bidoof was near, and jumped. He succeeded; as long as he wasn't taken by surprise, he was _fast_. It was all Rattata had, but still, we could work with it.

Maestro was furiously running to stay atop the Bidoof. "Beat it with your tail!" I called, and he did so, trying to land a blow on its rapidly spinning face. At least Maestro was avoiding attack, but he was going to tire out soon. Tackling the Bidoof was ineffective, because that it could just curl up. I scanned the surroundings. "Maestro, up that tree!" I said, pointing to a nearby sycamore. Maestro didn't even spare a second to look at me like I was crazy, but I could tell he wanted to.

He jumped off of the Bidoof, and sped towards the tree. "Stop, Maestro!" I yelled, when he was inches from the bark.

Bidoof was coming, and I had to just say, "Maestro, tackle the Bidoof!" Maestro leaped for the whirling dervish beaver, but fell short, and was flattened again.

Maestro didn't get up. My heart jumped into my throat and stayed their, beating its sorrow.

"The Rattata is unable to battle." Camille said, still brisk. I dropped everything and ran to Maestro's side. His form was prone, he was unconscious. He could have been dead if not for the ragged breaths that filled his chest.

"He'll be fine! Keep on battling! This is _interesting_," the friend of Camille remarked.

"He'll be fine," Brett echoed testily; a battle with no money involved didn't hold his interest.

"I'm sorry!" Lavender yelled.

"It's not your fault," I said, my throat filling with phlegm, my eyes filling with tears. I took up Maestro in my arms. Meanwhile, the Bidoof had come to a shaky stop, but all I wanted to do was wipe the other rodents' toothy stupid almost-grin off of its face. By any means necessary. Battle was horrific, but boy did it spawn more battle.

"Chopin! Be sharp! Knock him A flat!" I said, trying out the terrible puns that people in my father's day used while training. Chopin just started laughing in breathy whistles.

I pointed my Pokedex at him. Growl, Bide, Fury Cutter. Bad moves for what was supposed to be my main combat Pokemon.

"Growl!" I yelled.

"Bidoof's ability is to double all stat modifications," Brett yelled over to me. Growl reduced Bidoof's attack doubly! Finally, some good news! I was just inches from the battling field Camille marked with chalk.

"Growl again!" Chopin growled, still a musical sound, but harsh nonetheless.

"Bide!" I whispered quietly to Chopin, who had sidled next to me. This was a good way to do it, not yelling out my moves so the opponent could hear.

"Tackle then Rollout!" I heard Peter yell. Chopin merely took a wide stance as he was knocked over by Bidoof's Tackle. He had a lot of hitpoints, so I hoped that he could survive the Rollout. Was Rollout a rock attack? Brett stared at me with a worried expression on his face, so I assumed it was. Would Bide retaliate double with the super effective damage he received or not?

Bidoof started to roll again, and hit Chopin. Chopin crumpled like a paper fan, and went and stayed down. The tears that pricked and smoldered in my eyes fell out finally. Chopin didn't even _want _to fight! He wanted to see a violin, for Christ's sake! Why would I shove him into this hard world of battling?

"Pichu, see what you could do," I said morosely. I didn't want to surrender. I recalled Chopin so he wouldn't get hurt anymore. Pichu stared at me.

"It's just hurt both of my friends, hopefully your friends too someday, if not now. It's stupid looking, so when you shock it, it might not know what hit it." Pichu nodded, smiled unconfidently, and went next to the Bidoof.

It released its Thundershock immediately, and the Bidoof reeled. I hoped it would be paralyzed, but no such luck. It lumbered towards Pichu after having received an order to Rollout. It began to roll. It was much faster than Pichu.

"Jab your tail into it and Thundershock when it tries to hit you!" I called out, forgetting to lower my voice.

The Bidoof wasn't quite as fast as the Pichu, but still managed to work up to a quick roll. It was shocked again by Pichu, and was jabbed with Pichu's tail, but was still going strong.

"Pichu, Thundershock it again!" I yelled. Pichu hit it again. If Pichu was going down, so was that idiotic beaver.

"Rollout! Roll over it three times in a row if you can!" Pichu only weighed around half of what Maestro did! It would die.

"Get out of the way if you can make it Pichu, it means business!" I yelled, fear tingeing my cheeks. Pichu shook its head no, stood firm, and proceeded to jab its tail and Thundershock while it was being run over, like I had it do last time. I thought we were cool, but it wasn't going to obey me, clearly.

The second time, Pichu fell. My world seemed to slow to my pulse; with every beat, it reminded me that I was safe, unlike them. I didn't risk anything with a battle; I risked _everything _but my own body like they did. I risked their safety, but not my own. Battling is a selfish deed, and my Pokemon lost to a beaver. A stupid beaver.

"Good fight," Peter said, but looked taken aback when he saw my tear-streamed face. "You lost, so what? There's always next time! Part of being a trainer is losing! The better you get, the less you lose." Peter said the last sentence with pride.

I wanted to turn on him and scream, but instead I was merely embarrassed that the boy I liked saw me at my weakest like this.

"Fuck you, dad," was all I said, under my breath. Fuck him, indeed, I thought as well as I recalled my Pokemon, ran the six feet into the Center, and thrust them under Nurse Joy's nose.

"You have to help them! They're badly hurt!"

Nurse Joy just smiled at me. "First battle?"

"Yeah. I let them down," I said, and soon I was sobbing on the counter like a big baby.

"No you didn't," she said. "And don't you ever think that this sadness is a weakness. If you don't care about your Pokemon's health like you do your own, you'd have no incentive to have them fight well."

I nodded a bit, took a tissue, blew loud as a foghorn, and wiped off my tears. Each was a simple action, but through the sorrow-misted goggles I wore, seemed arduous.

"I should probably be getting back outside," I said lamely. "Thanks."

"Here they are!" Nurse Joy said, holding out their Pokeballs.

"Thank you!" I said, and worried about what they would do to me when I released them.

"Go," I said lamely after I got back outside.

"Guys, I'm _so _sorry. I tried really hard, and I'm so sorry that you got hurt. If you decide that you don't want to battle, then by all means feel free not to."

They all shook their heads. Pichu balled its little hands into fists and stamped for good measure. Maestro hopped into my lap and licked off the remnants of all tears. Chopin shook his head, but at the end, it turned into a firm nod.

"You don't want to battle?" I asked Chopin. I remembered his grim look when he went out to fight. He nodded.

"Has he always hated fighting?" I asked, turning to Peter, Chopin's previous owner.

"I don't know. I caught him like that. I didn't battle him at all before you got him." He trailed off, probably not wanting to remind Lavender that he conned her out of her cruise-won Shiny Dratini in exchange for a Kricketune.

"Do you want to stay here with me or go to learn medical sciences with Doctor Daikon? You could sing to the patients. I know that when you sung to me it helped me feel better."

Chopin shrugged.

_Maybe later when I'm too old to travel, but for now I'm fine, as long as I'm not battling._

I jumped. Camille had taken out an Abra.

"You don't mind, do you?" She asked. "I just figured, since it appears to be a pivotal moment in your training and all…"

"No, that's fine." I couldn't help but look down on Abra a bit, as they grew up to become Kadabra and Alakazam that _loved _using Confusing moves to psychologically force a breakdown.

Maestro also growled at it a bit, and Pichu looked positively furious, and released a shock at it. It teleported before Pichu's attack could hit it, however.

Maestro turned to Abra, then to me, and then squeaked.

_It's a way to get all my energy out. I like it a lot. You should too, Twig. _The voice wasn't his, cold, psychic, and disembodied in my head, but his words were clearly Maestro's.

The Abra teleported towards the Pichu, but the Pichu shook its head; it didn't appear to want to talk to me, not through a Confusion based Pokemon, at least.

"Thank you," I said to the Abra. "And thanks, guys. For battling, I mean. And to you Chopin, for communicating that you don't want to. How long do Kricketune live, if you don't mind me asking?"

_I might make it another two years. Our species is not famed for longevity._

"Do you really want to be stuck traveling with me when you have so little time? You could be studying music with the masters! You could be going back to Sinnoh and starting a family!"

_I want to spend my two years doing something worthwhile. Protecting you is worthwhile. Every Kricketune loves music. I am not at all novel in that aspect. Music isn't so much a special interest as an inborn trait among my kind. Besides, who else will tell you the mistakes you made in battle?_

"Mistakes?"

_It's so much easier to observe when you're not in it, but both Maestro and I do know Cut._

"I knew I was forgetting something!" I said, practically slapping myself.

_And when you got Maestro to go up next to the tree, you should not have had him tackle the Bidoof. You should have had him dodge at the last second; part of what knocked Maestro out was that he crashed against a tree. If Bidoof had been the one who crashed at such a high speed against a tree, the impact could have sidelined it._

"That's such a good point," I breathed, amazed that Chopin knew so much. Well, I knew he knew a lot, but for him to be able to transfer it to me, it was amazing.

_One last comment- if I were you, I would watch out for_

With a flash of red light, Abra disappeared into his Pokeball. Camille smiled at me. "Are you done talking? I actually need to go."

"Ummm, sure?" I said. She looked to be in a terrible hurry, and I figured that Chopin could tell me somehow.

"Goodbye Camille! It was nice meeting you!" Lavender called out sweetly.

Brett and Peter were deep in conversation. Peter was looking at Brett's Calcudex, presumably looking for stats for his Pokemon. Peter extended a hand and Brett shouted a quick goodbye.

"You coming?" Camille asked her tall friend, who had a wry smile on his face.

"Nah. I think I'll just stay here and watch the noobs."

"Nice of you," Camille said with a roll of her eyes.

"I know. I'm freaking Jesus, only taller. Bye, Cammy-chan." He patted Camille on the head, which she seemed to find demeaning, because she hit him in the solar plexus. She then left, sticking the piece of chalk she used to trace the fighting pitch behind her ear.


	22. Hoenn: Defeat

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

"So what's it up to now, nooblets?" The tall friend said, leaning against a nearby picnic table.

"Time for you to stop calling us 'nooblets,'" Peter fumed, clearly annoyed by the tall friend's smugness. The part that had me laughing was that the boy's smugness so closely mimicked Peter's.

"Wanna battle?" The tall friend asked.

"Once I heal my Bidoof, sure." Peter said evenly, not daring to back down.

"Okay!" He said brightly, and punched Peter in the stomach. Peter doubled over, and croaked out, "What was that for?"

"That was a short battle. You surrender already?" The friend asked with a laugh.

"What the…" Brett trailed off, presumably unable to think of a curse word appropriate enough to describe the situation. He was only ten, though.

Lavender sat next to me, and whispered. "I don't like that tall guy. I hope Peter kicks his a-word!" _Kicks his a-word? _I thought, amused.

"Maybe you should get to the gym," I said to Peter, "instead of fighting some human Pokemon match with a complete stranger."

"How do you know I'm human, huh?" He asked me, a strange glint in his eye. "I could just be a rare hairless Usaring, a Humaring. But you didn't ever stop and think of that, did you?" He asked reproachfully.

"You're weird," I said.

"I'm not weird. What a strange name! Actually based on the Scottish wyrd. I'm not Scottish, though."

"Yeah, I'll go battle at the gym now," Peter said.

"Are you the leader of this nooblet posse?" The tall one asked Peter.

"We are not noobs, a, and b, yes." Peter said through gritted teeth.

"Careful now, don't want to get so riled up before your 'big gym battle.' Chah, it's in battle that the greatest mistakes are made. You might lose one of your baby teeth in the heat of your battling fervor."

"Mine are already out," Peter growled, and stomped into the Pokemon center, holding Bidoof's Pokeball out.

"But really, Brett, is this guy just allowed to follow us? Can't we make him leave?" I asked Brett.

"I don't know!" Brett said, annoyed that he was the go-to for everything.

"Do you have any Psychic Pokemon?" I asked the tall kid, who was leaning against the same bench, observing us casually.

"No. I can read people's minds already," he said.

"Really, then what am I thinking?" Lavender asked, skeptic but cheerful.

"You're thinking that I should go away before Chief Noobnugget you're drooling over comes back and kicks my 'a-word.'"

"How did you know that I like Peter?" Lavender asked, shocked but smiling.

"Chah, I have really good hearing, just like a Mightyena, and anyone within a twelve mile radius could tell you like him."

"I don't like him, I love him!" She shouted, covering her mouth afterwards, a blush ricocheting across her cheeks. I knew she loved him, I realized, and it would only hurt her more when I had to take him away. I had to have Peter. He was so good-looking, yes, but it was something else. He was just sweet without being too sweet. Goodness was in his nature, along with his conceit, but I could deal with both.

"Oh god, snore, what's with the lovefest here?" The tall kid said with a roll of his eyes. He picked up Maestro and placed him on his head. "Everything's small from up here, huh, buddy?" He tousled Maestro's fur. Maestro play-growled at him.

Peter ran out, and held up his six Pokeballs triumphantly.

"Time to stop screwing around, I can actually go and win this bitch!" I had never heard him be so blatantly vulgar. It must have been the influence of the tall kid. I told our follower as such, and he laughed.

"Tall kid, do you have a name?" Lavender asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"No. But you may call me Ragnarok of the (Bloody) Abyss," he said proudly.

"Or I could call you 'stupid giant who won't leave us the hell alone,'" Brett muttered quietly. I smacked a quiet high five with him, and we shared a snicker. He was a bit immature, but I guess I could appreciate his humor.

Maestro leaped from the tall kid's head, and scrabbled from his lap to jump back over to me.

"You've got awesome arms," he said to Chopin. "You ever heard of fencing? Your arms are like ready made shinai."

"Can you please stop feeling up my Pokemon?" I asked testily. He seemed to have a way of annoying all of us, even Lavender.

"Here we are. Go away." Peter said to the tall kid.

"Nah, it's open season for noob hunting. Chah, no one's really tried this before?" The tall kid leaned easily against the door. Lavender kicked it open from the bottom, and he fell to the floor in a tall, crumpled heap.

"Serious high fives for that one, Lavender," I said, grinning wickedly at her prank.

"Never fear, I shall return!" He said in a deep booming voice that he probably meant to sound satanic, or abyssal as he would say. He then released a dinosaur with wings made out of enormous leaves from its Pokeball. It began to flap the leaves, and the tall kid who called himself Ragnarok of the (Bloody) Abyss hopped onto its back. He soon flew up out of sight.

"That was weird," Lavender remarked, still glowing after her prank.

"Yeah, it was," I said, staring up after the tall kid.

"Time to win!" Peter said, rushing through the door.

"Wait, if you want to fight Roxanne, you have to get through me first." The speaker was a twenty-year old man in a blue baseball cap.

"Sure thing," Peter said, bored.

"Go, Geodude!" He released a living rock.

"Infernape, Mach Punch it." Infernape punched it in quick succession five times, until it fell unconscious.

"That was easy," Peter remarked, as the man he lost against fumed and handed him some money.

"Go back that way," the man muttered.

We walked back through the gym, which was covered in pink floor tiles. We reached Roxanne in the back. She looked to be about forty.

"You have an Infernape, huh? You'll be on my difficulty tier four." She said quietly to herself.

"This will be a two-on-two match. Substitutions are allowed, and the one with Pokemon left wins." Unlike Brawly, she wasn't going to let him dictate the terms.

"Go, Infernape!" Infernape, already out of the Pokeball, put up its fists and prepared for the upcoming battle. We settled into the bleachers, Lavender and Brett on my either side.

"Go, Onix!" I recognized the Onix, but it was one of those awe-inspiring Pokemon that made you feel small every time you saw it. It was twenty-eight feet long, according to the Calcudex, and this one had the ability to be immune to one hit KO moves. I shifted closer to Brett to be able to see this battle from his statistics point of view.

"I bet for Peter," he whispered.

"Cool," I responded in a similarly soft voice.

Lavender edged closer to me. "I'm scared. Just look at that huge snake! Infernape seems so small…" She said this almost sadly. Maestro took this opportunity, as I gazed at the battlefield in front of me, to climb from my lap to my right shoulder. Pichu was already on my left.

"It's okay, there's nothing to worry about. Fighting has the advantage." I whispered.

"If Onix knows any ground moves, then those are doubly effective on fire," Brett hissed.

"You're not making her feel any better. Are you really scared, Lavender?" I asked wearily.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Lavender sounded so ashamed at her fear that I relented a bit.

"If you get really really scared, just grab my hand, okay?"

"Infernape, Mach punch!" Infernape sprang out and punched the snake in one of its middle segments. Onix's head reflexively jutted towards Infernape, and he grabbed onto the long stone horn protruding from its forehead, and with the skill of an acrobat swung over the horn, until he was perched on its head.

"Good job, Infernape!" Peter said, pleased and relieved. He wouldn't have thought to tell Infernape to do that, I know, so it showed that the Infernape had true battler's instincts.

"Onix, Screech!" Roxanne called out. Onix emitted the terrible, grating noise I had only ever heard from Lauren's Ambipom.

"Infernape, Taunt!" Infernape mocked the Onix into using only attack moves.

"Onix, try to shake it off!" Roxanne commanded. It shook and shook, but Infernape had seated itself right at the base of the horn, and he gripped it firmly with his arms and legs; he stayed on.

Sometimes, I realized, a Pokemon battle could be won just like this, with a single good position guaranteeing almost certain victory.

"Infernape, Close Combat!" Peter yelled.

"Ooh," Brett intoned. "It's really really powerful, but it will lower his defenses afterwards by tiring him out."

The move immediately knocked after the Onix, which sank like a stone, to pardon the pun. Roxanne smiled, and recalled the Onix.

"Omastar, go!" She called out, and released yet another Pokemon from my home region. It was a fossil Pokemon, and while I had never seen one before, its primitive looking suckers and heavy, spiked shell made sense to me. It was a really cool looking Pokemon.

"It's almost immune to fire!" Brett said. "It's part water Pokemon!" I winced; this would indeed be hard. Would Infernape's Fighting trump Omastar's Water attacks?

"It's got high defense from physical attacks, like Onix. All fighting moves Infernape knows are physical." Brett muttered. Did he find amusement in Pokemon attacks being harmful, when nearly all of them did nothing to him? I wondered…

"Infernape, Mach Punch!" Infernape instinctively aimed for the soft, tentacled parts of Omastar, rather than the shell.

"Mud shot!" The Omastar shot mud from its suckered beak, and the mud clung to Infernape even after he tried to shake it off.

"Oh no," Brett said. "That move reduces speed. It's ground, too- it's super-effective against Infernape."

Lavender's hand moved to grip mine. Her knuckles were nearly white. The hardness of her grip brought me out of my reverie. Poor Infernape, all slow with his clean fur all dirty.

"Close Combat!" Infernape hit as hard as he could. It was a physical move, however, and unlike with the Onix, he wasn't right at its most vulnerable point. It had dodged in time; he had hit its shell. It had a crack in it, but as the Infernape drew ragged breaths, we knew it was nearly over; his defenses were down. He leaned against the ground for support, nearly bowing to his opponent.

"Hydro Pump!" An enormous spray of water was directed all at Infernape, who got to his two feet too late. He crashed, and fell. Pichu hugged my head tightly, Maestro's claws dug slightly into my shoulder, Lavender held my hand tightly. Here the titan fell, not from the inside, but from the outside. The confusion at least was Infernape destroying himself. Only Infernape could decide when to end Infernape, not some stupid Omastar.

"Return, Infernape." Peter all but croaked. I could imagine why; none of his other Pokemon were prime candidates to be anywhere close to beating the defense-heavy monster. Roxanne saw his Infernape, and assumed that he was an advanced battler; she didn't know that all his other Pokemon barely scraped a tier one.

"Go, Shinx!" He called out, and the electric dog/cat type creature with the star-shaped tail emerged. It was barely half the size of the Omastar.

"Omastar, Mud Shot!" Before Shinx could even get a tiny move in, it was covered in mud, and the mud was so thick that it couldn't even move. It was low-leveled indeed. Lavender's hand had lost its pressure, but she was whimpering now. I raised my left arm carefully, so as not to knock off Pichu, and put my arms around her shoulders, patting awkwardly.

He recalled Shinx, and faced Roxanne morosely.

"That's your other Pokemon?" She asked contemptuously. I remembered how I had thought much much earlier, before Maestro, that all Peter needed to become a better trainer was defeat from an inferior opponent. Now, however, I wondered if he really deserved it; he looked very unhappy, like he had lost something precious.

"You would send out a Pokemon that you'd _never battled with before _to fight a _gym battle_?" She was so angry she was nearly hopping from foot to foot. "I have half a mind to take that Pokemon away from you! The first time it's out of a Pokeball, and the first thing it sees is an enemy Pokemon staring it down, and a crowd watching it? _How dare you!_" She screamed with fury. "And until you can beat me in a _tier one _battle _without _that Infernape of yours, you are _never _getting a badge from me! Ever!" She turned around, let out a huff, and said icily, "Take that poor creature to the Pokemon Center."

Peter walked out gingerly, unable to meet the eyes of the man he beat earlier.

"That went well, didn't it?" Lavender squeaked hesitantly. Peter gave her a withering glance, said, "Well, whadaya think, Lavender?" He said it in a withering voice. Lavender's eyes filled with tears.

"Well, one thing's for sure," Brett muttered angrily. "I'll think twice before betting on _you_ again." He had apparently become more confident because of Peter's recent victories, and had bet—and lost, quite a bit of money.

"Shut up," Peter said bitterly. "I'll win, on a _tier one, _and you'll get your damn money back. Quit whining."

One thing for sure, Peter was a sore loser. When he lost, he kind of collapsed. How often had he even lost? He must be good if he hadn't lost enough to lose all of his emotional stability.

"I'm fighting her tomorrow. I'm so nervous," I admitted finally. I was counting on a starter with an advantage to carry me through a gym battle, but with only an electric, a normal, and a pacifistic bug Pokémon, how in the world could I hope to win against this cold and foreboding mistress of rock?

"Don't be. You're okay on strategy," Brett said.

"You're so brave! How could you ever be scared?" Lavender asked, high-pitched and cute as always.

"_Rock Pokémon have high defenses against physical attacks, like hitting them. If facing a Pokémon that uses many special attacks, they will almost certainly fail. They are very slow, but their attacks are devastating._" Brett advised, the glow from his Calcudex illuminating his face.

"Are you just reading that?" I asked Brett. He nodded, and showed me the screen. It contained an E-Book, which said "Battle Gauging for Beginning Betters."

"It's how to figure out what the very first Pokémon a player calls out says about them and how to generally judge for bets. It doesn't contain advice about how to fight, just how to figure out who's the strongest."

"That shit stores books too?" Peter said, eyeing the device with a morose interest.

"Yeah, it was really expensive, but my mommy bought it for me." Brett said proudly. A beacon of information, and yet the kid _still _talked like Barney the freaking purple dinosaur.

"Your mommy, huh?" Peter said wryly, as if voicing my thoughts. I grinned. He did appear to be bouncing back from defeat.

"We should spar again!" I said quickly. I was extremely worried about my ability to win a gym battle with type disadvantages. I had just seen that type advantages ruled; even the crazy good Infernape fell from a type advantage. Infernape was the strongest Pokémon I'd seen. How could my Pokémon hope to compete?

"You have a water Pokémon though, right?" I asked Peter.

"Yeah. I guess I'll have to use Shellos a bit to beat Roxanne. I haven't trained it."

"Not at all?" I couldn't help but ask. "Haven't you needed water? Why would you catch a Pokémon and not use it? Why are you treating them like slaves?" I could barely imagine what Chopin went through under Peter's ownership, just trapped in a Pokeball for days on end. How could Peter justify that?

"Well," his dander clearly raised, "I wouldn't be so high and mighty if I were you, Ms. 'I'll Train only a Pichu, a rat, and a bug.'" He jabbed his finger quotes into the air as if stabbing something. He was clearly looking for a fight, and I was angry, too; I am not proud to say that I gave him one.

"You only have one strong Pokémon! The rest are pathetically weak!" I argued.

"Says the one who got all three Pokémon creamed by my Bidoof! You're the 'pathetically weak' one!"

"At least my Pokémon like me," I retorted. It was a low blow, and it did hit him where it hurt.

"My Pokémon LOVE me!" Peter said, the corner of his mouth twitching in anger and the same contempt I saw on his face when he first met me.

"You think I haven't noticed," He continued, "how much your Pichu hates you? It's really really strong, but you're not even training it! I'm the cruddy trainer for focusing on my strongest Pokémon? At least I FOCUS on my Pokémon!" Peter ranted, clearly delighting in dumping some of his negativity out on me. I wasn't just going to stand by and take it, though. I wanted to give as good as I got.

"You lost to the easiest gym trainer in Hoenn! I'm new at this; what's _your_ excuse?"

"Bitch," he muttered, and he shoved past me, heading towards the Pokémon Center.

"You shouldn't be so mean to Peter, Twig." Lavender said, hatred etching her every word. I hung my head, shamed by her words, although furious as well.

"I'm sorry I annoyed your little lover," I remarked snidely. Her expression changed from cute fury to real anger and sadness.

"He's _not _my lover, Twig!" She turned around with a flounce of her skirt, heading in the direction that Peter left in.

"I should probably get going too," Brett said hurriedly, possibly seeing my facial expression and wanting away from it. He ran until he caught up with Lavender.

It wasn't before he left that I realized that I was now alone except for my Pokémon, perfect prey for a narcoleptic attack.


	23. Hoenn: Extortion

A Journey

Summary: Ash's daughter has NO interest in Pokemon training. So, Ash, being the enterprising young Master that he is, puts her into the middle of the woods in the night while she's asleep with a pack, no map, a Pokedex, and a VERY angry Pichu.

"I might go down sometime soon, guys," I said, the overcast day outside suddenly seeming all the more foreboding, since I didn't know when and if it would be replaced by the horizonless sky of my dreams.

Maestro cheeped, and stood up close next to me for protection. I smiled, as Chopin neared me as well. Even Pichu hopped onto my foot, hugging onto my leg for balance as I shifted. Okay, so it was finally getting cute, now that it stopped trying to kill me (for the most part, at least).

My anger passed. I had these three amazing Pokémon, all as different as possible, even if my three human travel companions were less than amazing. I felt in my backpack for the egg, hoping I was doing a good job of taking care of it. I didn't feel it move ever, and I didn't do anything crazy like my friend Jacqueline, May's daughter, would have done. I didn't polish it, or sing to it, I just tried not to break it. Kind of like my friendships, I thought morosely.

I just hoped that I didn't screw it up with Peter. What had I been doing anyways, fighting with him like a squabbling Spearow? What was the point? I should go and apologize to him, I realized. Of course, my stubbornness spoke to me, asking me why in the world _I _should apologize to _him. _Is it really right for me to apologize just to stay in his good graces? I was right, wasn't I? He shouldn't just focus of all his strength and training and time into one Pokémon. I at least liked to hope that I wasn't doing the same.

I paused, thinking for a moment. How could I train my Pokémon up to beat Roxanne?

"Guys, we really need to think of a plan to beat Roxanne." I said to myself. "If you want to you know…"

All of them but Chopin nodded. I was using Colin's method to prepare them, as I had promised myself, even if that whole conversation with him and Lyall had just been a hypnogogic illusion, I still would follow it. I would, therefore, according to Colin's trainings, be very nice to my Pokémon.

"You shouldn't be left alone for long periods of time," the tall kid, who leaned comfortably against the wall of the house next to me.

"Where did you come from?" I looked around. No sign of the flying dinosaur he had used last time. Crap. Did he recall the Pokémon, or was this…

"Oh, I'm a figment of your imagination, of course," he said with a scoff. I frowned.

"Maestro, am I dreaming?" I asked worriedly. Maestro shook his head. The kid clearly confirmed that I was dreaming, but Maestro shook his head. Then again, wouldn't Maestro have shaken his head if I dreamed him up too?

"Crap, I _really _need a Psychic Pokémon." I muttered. A Psychic Pokémon could enter my dreams and talk to me. Maybe Dark Pokémon did it too, as they did appear to specialize in dreams. Then again, so did Ghost Pokémon…

"No, you need to learn how to beat Roxanne, no?" The tall kid asked.

"Yeah, that would be nice," I said casually. Pichu nodded and prodded me with its tail.

"You don't trust him?" I asked. I know Pichu hated Lavender, and this kid was even _more _suspicious-looking . He had a fault, at lest, but unlike the others, it wasn't specific. He didn't have Peter's conceit, Brett's immaturity, Lavender's stupidity, or my total ineptitude at battling, but worse, he was just a loose cannon. He was just generally weird and creepy.

Pichu nodded a bit, put its fingers to its chin, thought, and shook its head.

"Really? He's kinda weird," I replied conversationally."

"Good hearing, human, remember?" He asked, amused.

"Thanks for the offer and all, but I should get going," I said, the corners of my mouth twitching themselves into an awkward smile.

"Awww," he said, with real disappointment, although the amusement was still there.

"I'm sorry. Look. Don't you have better things to do than advise a thirteen year old 'noob' as you call it?"

"Nah. I've kind of finished my real training."

"How so?"

"I placed sixth in the Johto leagues. I'm actually just trying to get all the kickass Pokemon there are."

"Kickass? You're into fighting types?" I asked, confused.

"No," he laughed. Like, cool Pokemon. All the Kanto starters, for instance, they're ridiculously cool."

"I know, I'm from there." I said smugly.

"Duh. Is there any reason why you don't want people to know that you're a little dynastic celebrity?" He asked casually, appraising me sharply.

"Umm…" I paused. "Look, don't tell." Leave it to him to figure out who I really was.

"I didn't say I would, did I?" He asked. "I just want to know, that's all."

"I just… it's embarrassing. I don't want people to think I'm better than I am because of my dad being so good." I said, feeling lamer by the second.

"Ah. So it's not out of any 'I want to carve my own road' kind of thing. More like 'I don't want to have my ass handed to me." The boy said, staring at me like he was calculating something. At this, I couldn't help but bristle a little.

"That's definitely not it!" I said angrily.

"Mmm-hmm. Look, being a coward is really bad. But a coward who doesn't know that they're a coward is much worse," he said.

"I don't want my Pokemon to get eaten!" I squeaked out, realizing only afterwards how stupid that sounded.

"Mmm-hmm. Look, do you want to travel with me? I'll show you the ropes, train you out of your coward-ism-ness, and you will become a great trainer." He said, seriously. "I like adopting little freshies such as yourself."

"No thank you," I said. "I don't want to get great, I want to get _home_." I emphasized, hoping I could somehow make the boy understand. "I can't get any tickets home on a boat, so I need to do is cross the ocean to Johto. Are you going there soon? I'll go with you then," I thought, wheedling.

"Nope. You need to stay here until you've learned shit." He said.

"Look, could I buy it from you?"

"Do you have any money?"

"No," I said sadly.

"How's this, okay? Let's have a three on three battle. If you win, I'll give you a thousand five hundred dollars."

"What can I buy with that? That's not even enough for a night at an inn!"

"It's enough for five Potions, or seven Pokeballs. You could buy an antidote, or a burn heal, or an awakening."

"What's in it for you?" I asked. Was I really going to trust a kid who wanted to be called Ragnorok of the (Bloody) Abyss?

"If you lose, then you're traveling with me," the boy said smugly.

I winced.

"Could I get Brett and Peter over here?" I asked, frowning. Maybe that we if he attempted to kidnap me when I lost, then they could stop him?

"What about the purple girl?" He asked.

"Ahh, Lavender. Her too," I said, perhaps not entirely sincerely.

"Okay. Can I bring Camille here to ref?" He asked.

"Sure." I muttered. Obviously, I was still worried. Did I really want to leave Peter for someone whose name I didn't even know? I laughed a bit at the irony in that, as Peter didn't even know _my _name! I still promised to protect Lavender. I passed up a medical internship for that, why back out now?

"Nice egg, by the way." The kid said, staring at my backpack, seeing the bulge.

"Thanks."

"What is it?" He asked.

"I don't know."

"How'd you get it?"

"A 'please don't sue gift,'" I deadpanned, quoting the captain himself.

"Ah. How long have you had it for?"

"What's it been, two or three days?" I asked, realizing how easy it was to lose track of time.

"Oh, so not anytime soon," he said with disappointment. "Now that I'm done doing normal battling, I'm really just exploring, collecting cool Pokemon, and some breeding. My Arcanine is picky as hell when it comes to finding a mate."

"You've got an Arcanine?" I asked eagerly.

"You like them? So does everyone. Kind of like Charizard. What I like are Pokemon that are really kickass but that not _everyone_ loves." He said with mild interest.

"Except for Arcanine?" I asked.

"Yeah, and Charizard. Most kids take four years to get to the Leagues. I took an extra year to go around Kanto, and so I got some Kanto Pokemon. It's why I got so far in the leagues."

"So what's a kickass Pokemon that no one likes?"

"Travel with me," he said, "and I'll tell you. It'll be like a 'Pokemon of the Week' feature." He chortled. It was a very strange sound.

"Let me go get your friends. Talk to your Pokemon. Plan your strategy." He said, and then ran off incredibly quickly, propelled by incredibly long legs.

"Okay guys," I said nervously, "time for another battle." They nodded.

"Pichu, if you Thundershock, will it help you warm up, or deplete your energy? Will it help you to warm up?"

"Pii!" Pichu nodded and shocked me lightly.

"Ouch. Thanks, I guess."

"Maestro. Start running laps to get warmed up, get the adrenaline pumping." Maestro did his usual act, pretending to wheeze, but then did what I said. I loped after him, hoping to get my adrenaline pumping as well. If adrenaline made you go faster, then it probably made your brain go faster, too, I figured. I needed to command them quickly.

"Maestro, jump over Pichu!" I barked, hoping I could give him some training without tiring him out. He easily sailed over Pichu's head. Then again, Pichu was only one foot tall.

"Maestro, change direction NOW!" I yelled. Maestro screeched to a halt, then turned around.

"Try making a wide turn when you do that," I offered. I took a closer look, and then saw that Maestro had been right; to stay at top speed and reverse his direction gradually, he would have to make a loop that was easily bigger than the battle pitch Roxanne had.

"We'll work on your turn-changing later," I said. Maestro nodded, and rolled his eyes. He wasn't as pacifistic as Chopin, but he didn't like me pointing out his flaws. Of course, I loved the little rat so much that I couldn't even see any other flaws.

"Pichu, try jumping onto Maestro's back." Pichu, being bipedal, had a harder time than Maestro did, having shorter, tottery legs, but it finally leaped on top of Maestro. Maestro and Pichu were exactly the same height, and Pichu's weight was clearly hard on Maestro, but he just heaved a sigh and sank his haunches into the ground.

"One thing that you should try to do when you're fighting larger enemies is jump on top of them, hold on for dear life, poke your tail into them, and shock the hell out of them." I explained. "Your ability is that any moves requiring physical contact have a 30% chance of paralyzing your opponent, right?" I wondered how I remembered that, but I figured I had seen it on Brett's Calcudex at some point in time.

"Pii," Pichu said with a shake of his head.

_It would shock Pichu back because of the extended contact. That is why most electric moves ideally do not have any contact, _Camille's Abra said. Camille just arrived. I smiled at her; I did like her a lot.

"Any advice for dealing with your friend?" I asked wryly. "If I lose this match, I have to quit my travel group and go with yours."

"Oh, that again?" She laughed. It was a nice sound. "He might go easy on you, unless he really wants you along. My advice is that you expect the unexpected. His Pokemon aren't too strong, because that anyone who knows him won't battle with him. They're too scared." She said. She stopped, wondering if she had said too much.

"Oh, crap," I said dully.

"You can win!" Lavender shouted to me from the direction of the Pokemon Center. The kid had held his word and brought my friends along.

"Let's go to a nice clearing, not that shitty one outside the Pokemon Center," Camille said. "Let's try Route 116. I think they might have a battling pitch carved in already. Saves me some chalk." She started walking, and I paused only to wait up for Lavender, Peter, Brett, and my opponent before I followed her.

We walked through a few blocks of the sprawl in Rustboro. We noticed we were getting close when we rediscovered grass growing at the boundary. The steady regreening of the rocky brown of surroundings was very pretty, something Lavender couldn't stop noticing.

"Oooh, look at that vine!" Lavender said, clapping her hands in girly, squeaky delight.

"When's someone gonna have a gym battle?" Brett whined. "This is boring. No betting!"

"I can't believe you're fighting this jerk," Peter said to me. "Kick his ass, okay?" I glowed with pride at that. Peter thought I could kick the kid's ass! "…And if you don't, I will later," he concluded. I rolled my eyes. But honestly, what was it about Peter? Just him talking to me was like a cool breeze. Why did I like Peter so much to the point of exclusion of his faults? This didn't really seem healthy. And yet, every word that came out of that conceited little mouth of his was gold-plated and shining and perfect.

"Let's get started, Camille," my opponent said, raising himself up to his admittedly impressive full height, pumping a fist into the air melodramatically.

"Are you sure this is a good-" Camille said.

"Of course it is!" The tall kid interjected.

"You're kind of forcing her into battle…"

"And I'm kind of forcing you to ref!" The tall kid smiled smugly. "What now, huh?"

_I think this is what I would call flirting, _the Abra said, its eyes flashing purple as it did so. I looked around, and saw Chopin pointing at the two. The Abra had presumably translated Chopin, I guessed.

"Like what I would do with Peter?" Lavender whispered to me, staring at Peter obviously to make sure he wasn't listening. Were Peter not so self-absorbed, that would actually serve to attract his attention. Gee, Lavender was stupid! I guessed that this was more of a public psychic broadcast from Chopin/the Abra, if Lavender could hear it.

I stared at the pitch. It was dirt, with a few scattered rocks here and there. It was half shaded by a tree on one border edge.

"Official rules," Camille said with her quick, crisp practicality. "This will be a two-on-two match. Switches will," she stared meaningfully at my tall opponent, "NOT be allowed." He slumped an inch of his enormous height, and gave her the finger. Camille fixed him with a glare I would have found terrifying were I on the receiving end.

"Potions will not be allowed in this battle. Your Pokémon cannot leave the battle pitch, although they can fly above or dig below it. You are not allowed to go into the pitch…"

"The pitch is not allowed to go into you," the tall kid interrupted with mock solemnity.

"Sarcasm is banned," Camille deadpanned.

"Good thing I'm not sarcastic, right?" The tall kid riffed. I could tell the two were really close friends who had known each other for a while. It almost seemed like they were reading from a script.

"The challenger releases his Pokémon first." Camille concluded with a roll of her eyes.

"Go, Wrolf!" He yelled, pulling out a PokeBall from his pocket.


End file.
